


Wings of Clouded Sulphur

by tess1978



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Play, Angry Sex, Angst, Betrayal, Breakups, F/M, Grieving, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, alternative universe, arthur maxson as a child, but he does grow up which i know is an issue sometimes, but i still need to tag for them, consensual voyeurism, fyi the following tags are a bit spoilery, more tags as I think of them, so be cautious, there is no underage sex in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-06-22 12:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 49,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19668652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tess1978/pseuds/tess1978
Summary: She followed his gaze to see a sulphur-yellow butterfly there, slowly folding its wings in the sun. They watched together as it fluttered lightly into the breeze, floating gently above them until it landed delicately on Ellen’s head. She reached up to brush it away.“Don’t,” he said, taking it gently from her hair and setting it free in the breeze.This is the story of how a butterfly changed Arthur Maxson's life forever.





	1. Welcome to the Brotherhood of Steel

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Endgame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234913) by [tess1978](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tess1978/pseuds/tess1978). 



> This is an AU of my previous fic, [Endgame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234913)
> 
> Although this story stands alone, it contains the same characters and timeline as its predecessor, but with a major twist. Endgame does contain spoilers for this story, but not always in the way you would think, and I suggest reading it first to get the full context of this AU. 
> 
> As of today, I this fic is nearly complete, and I have faith I can post it to completion in a timely manner, so please don't worry that it will be as neglected as some of my others. I intend on posting twice weekly on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

The sulphur smell seemed to cling for weeks afterward. Her hair, her clothes. They were rank with it. The medics told her it was in her mind, that her clothes were washed and she was clean, but she didn’t believe them. And she had nothing else to think about while they cleaned the rads from her blood in the Citadel other than the stench of radiation and death.

She was on her feet again in a few weeks. When she ventured to the mess, the Brotherhood soldiers greeted her like a savior, cheering her in a way that made her uncomfortable. But she hid it, returning the hearty toasts “To Ellen MacKay! The Lone Wanderer!” with a laugh, and biding her time until she could seek out Elder Lyons and beg him to give her something - anything - to do.

Owen Lyons, not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, took her up on her offer, making her an Initiate in the Brotherhood of Steel and assigning her to Paladin Krieg for her training. She was clever and bold, but unskilled. It was pure luck that had kept her alive in the wasteland up until this point.

Her second field mission with Krieg took them on a recruitment run to Rivet City. She and the other initiate with them had an hour of leave, so she headed to the market. She had a few spare bits of this and that, and she was hoping to trade for some better soap than the stuff the Brotherhood kept on hand, as well as some scissors. 

The market was busy. She’d only been here a few times before, and whether it had been the wrong time of day or the insecurity of travel before the Brotherhood had taken to patrolling the area, she didn’t know. But it had been much quieter during her other visits, with half the stalls being closed.

It was not like that today. All the stalls were open, including a dress shop and a junk shop that looked interesting. She made her way to the clothing store first, acquiring an adorable yellow, buttoned dress with a subtle butterfly print, before moving on to the junk shop.

The two men who were running it stood with their backs to her. They were bickering over something or other and didn’t hear her approach. She waited for a moment, watching them. They were both dark haired, but that was where the similarities ended. One man was lean, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal dark skin streaked with grease. He was tall, but not extraordinarily so. 

Unlike his partner, who was, quite frankly, the tallest man Ellen had ever seen. At least six foot four, with a chest as wide as a bus, he towered over the other man, and although he was clearly agitated, judging from his tone of voice, his body language indicated a level of comfort and ease that indicated they argued more out of habit than any kind of malice. 

Her lips quirked into a smile and she cleared her throat, hoping to get their attention. The giant was not distracted from his tirade, but luckily his partner turned and saw her, a huge smile lighting up his face. 

He elbowed the tall man in the ribs. “Danse. Customers!” he muttered, still smiling at Ellen.

The giant, whose name was apparently Danse, spun around, and Ellen was delighted to see a faint blush rise to his cheeks. “Sorry,” he said. “We were having a slight disagreement. How can we help you?”

It was Ellen’s turn to blush as two sets of brown eyes stared down at her. Both men were disconcertingly attractive. They both looked to be about in their early twenties, clean shaven, with dark hair. Danse had fairer skin, while the other man was darker, with laughing eyes beneath fine, arched brows. 

“You must be looking for a ladder,” the shorter man said.

Danse stared at him quizzically, one heavy brow raised in question.

“Why?” Ellen inquired.

“To climb back into heaven, where an angel like you obviously fell from,” he replied with a wink.

Ellen giggled but Danse only snorted. “Stop flirting,” he said, but there was no bite to his words. He smiled at Ellen again. “Ignore Chetan, he’s shameless.”

Ellen could feel her face heat up as she looked between the pair of them. “I need…” her mind drew a blank, but luckily her hand knew what she wanted, making a snipping motion with her fingers.

“Scissors?” Danse asked, and she nodded. 

“I’ve got some. Just sharpened. They don’t have scissors in the Brotherhood?”

“I don’t like those. I wanted some nicer ones. How much for these?”

“Five caps, pretty lady,” Chetan said, until Danse poked him in the arm. “Ten caps, I meant.”

“You said five.” 

“I was taken aback by your beauty,”

“Seven.”

“We’ll take it,” Danse interjected, and she handed over the money. 

“I’m supposed to hand these out too,” Ellen said, handing Danse the rolled up recruitment flyer she was carrying. 

“We’ll have a look,” Danse said with a smile.

“Okay. Uh… well, I better go.” Ellen turned to leave, shaking her head in embarrassment as she left.

Twenty minutes later, she was sitting in the Muddy Rudder, talking to, of all people, fucking _Butch_ , when the two men from the junk shop strolled in. 

“Where do we sign up?” Chetan asked.

* * *

Ellen went to the swearing in ceremony a week later and watched as Chetan Cutler and Danse - it was his only name - were sworn in as Initiates and assigned to train under Paladin Krieg. “I can’t believe you joined up,” Ellen remarked.

Chetan replied with a grand bow. “It was all for you, pretty lady.”

“It was not,” Danse said. “To be honest, the shop wasn’t doing that well. We did better as travelling merchants, when we didn’t have to close up shop to scavenge for goods.”

“Plus this guy thinks he’s gonna save the world,” Chetan said with a laugh, nudging Danse with his elbow. Danse smiled down at Chetan and for the first time, Ellen noticed the heat in his eyes as he looked at his partner. It was like a light went off in her head. She realized suddenly how much they looked at each other, how they were always near and touching… Chetan’s dreadful flirting aside.

“Are you guys together?” she asked. She was never one to beat around the bush.

Danse and Chetan glanced at each other and Danse’s brows came down slightly. 

“It’s not a big deal,” she hastened to add. “Just, I think you might be able to get spousal quarters if you ask.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Star Paladin Cross and Sarah Lyons live together. I think as long as there are quarters available.”

“I’ll look into it,” Danse said, and Chetan swept her up in a hug before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

* * *

It was a few weeks before Danse and Chetan were given quarters. They were small and cramped, deep in the bowels of the Citadel, and nothing but a thin wall separated them from the other couples nearby. But it was more private than the barracks above, and there was enough room for all three of them to sit and toast each other.

There wasn’t much time for socializing over the next few months as Paladin Krieg had them out in the field more often than not. When they were in the Citadel, there was weapon and armour training, drill, and classes on the history of the Brotherhood that recruits had to take. They had to work twice as hard as the initiates who had grown up in the order, already accustomed to the Brotherhood culture. But they managed to find a moment here or there, quiet moments in the dark, laughing to lighten the weight of their packs. Late nights studying and early mornings on their feet. 

Nine months of sweat and blood passed. Ellen wasn’t sure when things had changed, but as the pain of her father’s death began to fade and she bonded with Danse and Chetan, she began to feel as though she’d always been there. Always been a part of the Brotherhood. The trio became inseparable. Where one was, the other two were usually nearby.

All three of them were knighted on the same day. The ceremony was short, and along with thirty other Initiates they were promoted and given their power armour suits. Danse stood tall and proud in his. Ellen made fun of him, since he had to have his modified specially to fit his extraordinary height. It brought him up to an impressive 6’10”, making Ellen feel especially tiny in comparison, and her own armour didn’t help much. Her teasing words brought a red flush to his cheeks, making him somehow even more attractive than normal. 

They practically had to drag Danse away from the armour bay, but soon enough they were singing in the mess with the other knights and scribes, full of food and their two allotted drinks. 

“I have a bottle of rum in our quarters,” Danse shouted over the din, so Ellen and Chetan followed him down the corridors and stairs to their room. She perched in the chair while Danse opened the bottle, pouring them each a glass before sitting on the edge of the bed.  
Chetan sprawled out on the bed, his head propped up as he stroked the beard he’d grown. “Knight Cutler. That sounds weird.” 

Ellen looked at the ceiling. She had to be careful not to stare at Chetan all the time. He was as attractive as Danse, especially once he’d grown in the beard. Ellen had a weak spot for beards and she had to consciously avoid staring at him all the time. She took a sip of her drink. “Not as weird as Knight MacKay. Who knew a girl from the Vault could grow up to be a soldier?”

“Knight Danse,” Danse said. His dry tone caught Ellen off guard and she burst out laughing, along with Chetan, who sat up and wrapped his arms around Danse from behind. 

“My knight in shining armour,” he said, and Danse turned his head to kiss him.

Ellen sipped her drink and stared at the ceiling, waiting. They were an affectionate couple, and they weren’t shy about their relationship, so it wasn’t unusual behaviour. But seemed after a moment they weren’t going to stop. She took a deep breath and finished her drink. It was probably time to bow out gracefully.

“I should go,” she said, rising and setting down her glass. 

“No,” said Chetan. “Stay, pretty lady.”

Ellen laughed and rolled her eyes. Chetan never stopped flirting. She glanced at Danse. His face was inscrutable, his jaw red from Chetan’s beard. He looked at Chetan and something passed between them. He nodded slightly and then looked back to her.

She was about to turn towards the door when Danse held up his hand. “Yes. Stay. We want you to stay.”

Ellen looked between the two of them, both watching her intently. “W-what?” It was all she could manage.

Danse stood and crossed the short distance between them with a single step. He stood over her, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. “We want you to stay. We talked about it, and…if you want to...”

Danse’s face was redder than ever. Ellen didn’t know what was going on. She just stared at him. He looked over his shoulder at Chetan.

Chetan got up and stood next to Danse. “We want you to stay,” he repeated. He brought his fingertips to his lips and kissed them, before reaching over and brushing her lips lightly. “Pretty lady.”


	2. First Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of smut in this fic, fyi.

She’d thought about it. In the dark of the night, in her bunk. Thought about Danse and Chetan. But she didn’t think they thought about her. Not in that way.

Apparently she was wrong.

The heat in Danse’s eyes matched the heat that flooded her body at Chetan’s words. They wanted her to stay. 

“For what?”

“Anything you like,” Danse replied. “May I kiss you?” 

Her eyes shot to his mouth. She’d wanted this, in her secret heart, wanted to taste him. Both of them. She nodded and closed her eyes.

His lips were soft as butterfly wings as they brushed hers, flavoured with the sugar-sweet taste of rum. He pulled back and she looked up at him. 

“We’ve wanted this for a long time,” he whispered. 

Chetan’s voice next to her made her turn to look at him. “Both of us. May I?” 

She leaned towards him slightly and he kissed her too, his mouth slightly firmer than Danse’s, but with the same rum taste. 

When he pulled back, she looked up into his eyes, which twinkled with laughter. “You may go any time you choose, pretty lady, but for now, this Knight begs you to remain,”

Ellen couldn’t help but laugh as he bowed gracefully, gesturing towards the bed and tugging gently on her hand. 

“You’re such a gentleman,” Ellen remarked. 

A moment later, she was between them on the bed, still somewhat in shock as she turned from one to the other, kissing each in turn more deeply than the last. They kissed each other as well, in front of her wide eyes, and for once she didn’t feel the need to turn away as they groaned together for a moment before turning their attention back to her. 

She wasn’t sure whose hand undid the zipper on the jumpsuit or who laid her back on the bed, but Danse was the first to pull her bra aside and tongue at her nipple, while Chetan slid her suit from her arms and off her hips, leaving her clad only in her undergarments.

A slight chill in the room penetrated her consciousness, and she covered her face, embarrassed suddenly. She’d never been with anyone before, and now, here she was, with not one but _two_ people…

It was overwhelming.

Danse noticed her sudden tension and looked up at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Ellen nodded. “I’m fine, Danse, it’s just that I’ve never… I…” She was embarrassed and covered her face again.

Danse moved up to lay beside her and Chetan stopped what he was doing to look up at her as well, his warm palms making soothing circles on her belly. 

“We’d never hurt you, El. You know we love you, right?”

“You do? I mean, it’s not that, Danse. It’s just… what if I… you know… suck?”

“You can’t possibly suck, pretty lady,” Chetan said, his lips returning to her belly and kissing her briefly. “Unless you want to,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows.

The mood lightened again. Ellen let her hand come down to rest on Chetan’s head. His hair was curly, thick and soft beneath her fingertips, his beard rough on her belly. “I love you too,” she murmured.

Danse groaned beside her and she turned to him, kissing him again and winding her fingers into his hair. It was thicker than Chetan’s, coarser. The sound he made was almost a purr as he returned to her breast, and Ellen had nothing to do but relax as they both lavished attention on her.

Chetan slipped her panties down her thighs, but it was Danse’s fingers that ventured first between her legs. It was strange, being touched where nobody had ever touched her before. Nobody but herself. She was slick, and Danse’s fingers met no resistance as they slid through her folds. 

She glanced up briefly when Chetan got off the bed and kneeled between her legs, spreading them open gently, but her eyes closed again when he bent between her thighs, and she gasped when she felt first his tongue, then his lips on the petals of her sex. 

“You’re blushing,” Danse chuckled into her ear.

“I just… I don’t, ahh, Chey, god, don’t stop!” her hips flexed of their own accord as she tried to get closer to his talented mouth. “Don’t… ahhh…” 

It was as though something snapped inside her and she shattered into a million pieces, only to come back together safe in Danse’s arms. She opened her eyes to see him looking at her with the love she’d only seen directed at Chetan in the past. He kissed her gently. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm.. I think so,” she murmured, still breathless.

“You’ve made our girl very happy,” Danse told Chetan, who climbed up to lay on her other side. He ran his hand down her body, skimming her breasts and belly. Her bra had disappeared at some point without her even noticing. He leaned over to kiss Danse, who growled and pulled him closer. “Fuck, you taste good,” he said with a growl that heated Ellen’s blood. Danse was tasting _her_ , she realized. She swallowed hard. 

It occurred to her that she was naked while Danse and Chey were still fully clothed. Emboldened a little, she sat up, grabbing for Chetan’s collar. “Can you take this off?” she asked. 

“Where are my manners,” Chetan laughed. He unzipped his jumpsuit and removed it. Danse did the same, while Ellen watched curiously. She’d never seen a naked man before, except in her health book in school. And that looked _nothing_ like these. She reached out hesitantly to touch Chetan, before pulling back. 

“It’s okay,” he told her. “You can touch. I can show you.” He reached out to Danse and ran his fingers down his stomach, through the trail of hair there, before wrapping his fingers firmly around Danse. “He likes it hard,” he said with a grin.

“Chey,” Danse hissed, but he didn’t stop him. Ellen watched as Chetan stroked him, up and down the shaft. Ellen watched intently, her fingertips twitching. Eventually, Chetan took her by the hand and guided her to his cock, and she grasped him, mimicking the movements he was making on Danse. When Chetan sped up, so did she. The men kissed, open mouthed and hungry, and she grasped Danse as well, her fingers tangled with Chey’s. 

Ellen’s mouth hung open. She tried to look everywhere at once, touch everything. She leaned closer, inhaling the musky smell of the two men, and her mouth watered. Without thinking she bent to taste. Danse first, then Chey. Someone’s hands were in her hair, clenched in the short strands, pushing her further down. 

She bent to her work, taking as much of Danse’s cock in her mouth as she could. She felt a hand on her ass, between her legs, and she hummed approval onto the cock in her mouth. 

“She’s wet, shit, Danse.”

“I want to watch, Chey. I want to watch you together.” His voice was rough.

“El?” Chetan placed his hand on her face and she pulled off Danse and sat back on her heels. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation. 

“Yeah, just…” She looked to Danse for guidance. 

“Chey, you lay down there. El, you go on top. If it’s your first time, you should set the pace.”

Chetan laid down on the bed and Ellen moved to sit on top of his thighs. She glanced at Danse, who had moved to the chair and sat with his legs sprawled, his cock in hand. He nodded at her.

“It’s up to you, pretty lady. Have your way with me.” 

Ellen smiled at Chetan. He was so good at making her comfortable. She didn’t know why she had felt so awkward. She bent to kiss him. “Thank you,” she said. 

She wrapped her hand around Chetan’s cock, curious. He moaned in approval, and she moved higher on his thighs, bringing her pussy into contact with his dick. His hand came up to rest on her breast and he squeezed. She squeezed him in return.

Her hips rocked of their own accord, gliding up the length of him and back down. It felt good. She did it again, holding him in place with her fingertips as she rubbed him against her clit. The hand on her breast slid down her belly and over her hand. He grasped his cock and held it, giving her something more to rut against. 

Her insides _ached_ with need. She moved forward a little, and he held himself in place so she could lower herself down onto him.

She was nervous, unsure if it would hurt. She’d heard stories, back in the Vault, girls who’d bled or worse. But she knew she could trust Danse and Chey. 

“Take your time, El,” Chetan whispered. She locked eyes with him and nodded, sliding her pussy up his cock one more time. It felt good, slick and smooth. She could do this.

She reached down, pushing his cockhead towards her opening, anxious but determined. The first bit went in with no resistance. It felt good. Full. She retreated and then sank down again, further this time. She looked down and watched on the third stroke. It looked strange but also arousing, his dick sliding out of her, wet with her juices, before disappearing inside her again, nearly half his length this time.

“That’s so hot, shit, you guys.” Danse’s voice spurred her on, and she moved again, adjusting her angle to ease his way, making it nearly to the bottom this time. Her eyes wanted to roll back in her head with the pleasure of it. 

One last push had her seated to the base, so she paused a moment. She sat up, which caused her sensitive bud to rub against the dark hair at the base of his cock, and she could feel him. Filling her to her core. 

She moved, experimentally at first. Chey’s hands roamed her body, running up her thighs and squeezing her tits. Danse moaned, and she looked over in time to see him orgasm, his face flushed and his mouth open. She rocked again against Chey, who held onto her hips and began to guide her, lifting his ass a little to thrust into her, matching her movements perfectly. She could feel the crescendo of her orgasm rising within her and she sped up, chasing the feeling until finally it washed over her, her movements losing all rhythm and coherency. 

She was lost, still coming, when Chey lifted her up off his cock with a brusque, “move, lady, you have to…” as he came too, biting his lip and groaning as his cock pulsed out his essence. 

Ellen blinked at him as he lay panting. “Sorry I was rude, pretty lady.”

She gathered enough energy to drag herself up his body, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I think you were a perfect gentleman.” She smiled over at Danse. “Thanks. To both of you.”


	3. Domesticity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this is some gratuitous smut added for no reason other than I really liked Chetan.

“Ugh, get off of me, you’re gross.” Chetan pushed at Danse, who had just come from the field and was grimy and sweaty. Chey was in the armour bay working on his armour, while Ellen, bored, handed him tools.

“How come you’re so mean to me, Chey?” Danse complained. “You never talk to Ellen like that.”

“That’s because she’s always a paragon of cleanliness.”

“I am not. I’m as filthy as they come,” Ellen interjected. “I love you even if he doesn’t.” She hopped off the workbench and stepped up to Danse, grabbing him by the edge of his power armour and tugging on him until he was bent low enough to smooch. 

She wrinkled her nose. “He’s got a point, though. You are pretty smelly.”

Danse rolled his eyes. “I’ve been gone three days. What do you expect?” He stepped over to his station and opened his armour, stepping backwards out of it, much to the appreciation of Chetan and Ellen. “What?” he asked, once he turned around and caught them staring at him.

“I’m glad you’re home, my love.” Chetan stood. “I’ll take care of this. You go have a shower so we can welcome you properly.”

* * *

Ellen and Chetan were a lot more welcoming when Danse returned about an hour later, just as Chetan was finishing up. 

He was so big and tall, he somehow managed to wrap both of them in his arms at once. Ellen was trapped between them, just where she wanted to be, and she closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the thud of Danse’s heart in his chest. 

He released them, eventually, and went to check on Chetan’s work on his armour. “You missed a spot,” he remarked, elbowing Chey. 

“Where?” 

“Right there,” Danse pointed at the knee. Chetan bent to look and Danse took the opportunity to grope his ass, making Ellen laugh as Chey stood up suddenly and turned on Danse.

Ellen noticed movement down a few yards away and cleared her throat. “We have a shadow,” she said. Chetan turned to look, and noticing the squire standing a short ways away, waved him over. He ruffled his hair. “Hey, kiddo. We’re going to go eat. You coming?”

Ever since the death of the Lyons the previous year, Squire Maxson had taken to hanging around the trio whenever he was allowed. “I think it’s mirelurk stew today, Knight Cutler.”

Chetan sighed. “Of course it is.”

A few minutes later, they were all seated in the mess hall. Chetan poked at his stew, and Ellen noticed Arthur was practically bouncing in his seat. 

“Fire ants in your pants?” she asked.

“No! Of course not. I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“They’re making me an initiate! I get to start training next week!”

Danse raised an eyebrow. “You’re twelve.”

Arthur’s back straightened. “I am descended from Roger Maxson, the founder of the Brotherhood. My soul was forged from eternal steel-” he stopped when he realized Chetan was mouthing along with him. He laughed. “Yeah, I know that’s stupid. But I passed all my exams early, and I killed six ghouls when I was out on patrol last month.”

“I’m not doubting you. I just don’t want you to get a swelled head.”

“Thanks, knight.” Arthur gave him a slightly imperious nod. Ellen hid her smile. He took another bite of his food and turned to Ellen. “Anyway, I was hoping you could start training me?”

* * *

Arthur Maxson turned out to be an apt pupil. Over the next year, he learned quickly, proving himself both academically and in combat. Ellen taught him how to play chess, and before long, he surpassed everyone at the game until only she and Danse would play him. By the time he was thirteen, he was taller than Ellen, and she would hesitate to take him on in hand-to-hand combat. 

Meanwhile, she had all but moved in with Danse and Chetan. There was gossip, but it rarely bothered them. Ellen was still the “Lone Wanderer,” as she had been dubbed by Three Dog, and somewhat of a celebrity, and Danse was way too large, so people rarely said anything to their faces.

Still, the Brotherhood kept them busy. There were patrols, outposts to defend, and between the Outcasts, mutants, ghouls, and even the occasional android, there was plenty to defend against.

One evening, after a double shift on gate duty, Ellen cleaned up and headed down to the married quarters. She walked into Danse and Chetan’s room without knocking, only to find the two men standing in a cluttered mess of kit bickering about something. Danse stood shirtless, his skin damp from a recent shower, and Chetan poked him in the chest. “I’m not saying you took it. I’m just saying I can’t find it.”

“Hey, El,” Danse said without looking over at her. “I still don’t know where it is. Maybe you should take better care of your stuff.”

“What’s going on?” Ellen asked. 

“Chey lost his canteen. He’s got a scouting mission tomorrow and he’s trying to pack.”

“You lent it to me when mine cracked, remember?” Ellen said. “I can grab it for you tomorrow.”

Danse crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Chetan. 

“I said I wasn’t blaming you,” Chey said as he resumed packing. 

“You two fight like an old married couple.”

Chey laughed. “I take offence to that. I am an old married… trouple.” He grabbed Ellen around the waist, making her lose her balance. They fell together onto the bed.

“Hey, why don’t you finish your packing before you mess around,” Danse scowled.

Ellen laughed and rolled away from Chey. “You want to mess around as badly as we do,” she said, stepping up to Danse and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I don’t... not want to mess around… but someone needs to be responsible.”

The three of them packed Chey’s things. He was headed to look into a possible mutant nest that had been reported, a mission that was expected to take about three days. Danse and Ellen, along with Initiate Maxson, were alternating gate duty with day patrols and would not be accompanying Chetan’s squad.

Chetan put the last thing in his bag and zipped it shut before sitting on the bed and pulling Ellen into his lap. He rubbed her arm and they chatted while Danse sat at the desk and polished Chetan’s boots. Eventually, Chey got tired of waiting. “I’m going out in the field, Danse. Nobody’s gonna see them.”

Danse sighed and set the boots down, before joining the other two on the bed. “I suppose I can find a better use of my time,” he said, walking on his knees towards them.

Ellen got to her knees, wrapping her arms around Danse’s waist and lifting her face for a kiss. Chetan got up as well, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He crept closer, pressing her into Danse until she was squeezed tightly between them, and above her head the two men kissed, never letting go of her.

After a time, she felt Chetan’s lips on the back of her neck, so she turned around to kiss him. Danse took the opportunity to pull her shirt off over her head and undo her bra. Eager to get her unclothed, he turned to her shorts next, pulling them down her legs and nudging her to the side so he could remove them entirely.

Once she was bare, he stood up and removed his own clothes quickly. Ellen could sense his urgency as he pushed her to all fours, lining himself up behind her and entering her with one smooth thrust. She moaned and rocked back into him, reaching between her legs to finger her clit.

Chey took the opportunity to strip as well. Ellen eyed him with appreciation, beckoning him closer so she could take him in her mouth as Danse continued to fuck her. He sped up, appreciating, as always, having something to look at. Ellen’s hair had grown over the past year, and he pushed the shoulder-length locks aside to better watch as she sucked Chetan off. “Mmm, yes, like that,” he urged them.

Danse’s hands were restless as they roamed her body, groping her tits and squeezing her ass, and it wasn’t long before he withdrew. “Lay on your back,” he told Ellen, who hurried to do what he said. While he dug through the night stand, Chey rolled on top of Ellen and took Danse’s place, hiking her legs up around himself and kissing her as he pushed into her. She arched her back, meeting him thrust for thrust, but it was only a moment before Danse was back. 

He kissed Chey and handed him the bottle he’d retrieved, standing by the bed and watching as Chetan readied himself. Ellen loved watching Danse watch. Just knowing how turned on he was to see them spurred her on and she took over moving while Chey fingered himself.

Danse took the bottle from Chetan and Ellen watched over his shoulder as he coated his cock, before lining himself up behind Chey. She couldn’t see any more, but she could feel the extra weight of him, his movements transferring through Chey into her. 

Chetan moaned into her ear, muttering incoherently. She lifted her legs, trying her best to wrap them around both men. Danse’s ran his hand along her thigh and down her calf, before wrapping his fingers around her ankle and pulling her close, all without losing a beat. He caught her eye and smiled at her, but his eyes were glazed, and as Chetan’s movements between them and his groans and breathing became more irregular, Danse gave in as well, growling his release behind Chey just as he was pouring into her. 

Ellen, trapped beneath the weight of two men as they collapsed on top of her, groaned and pushed at Chetan’s shoulders, and he reluctantly moved. She scowled at him and he grinned back sheepishly. “Did we forget something, pretty lady?”

“We have to rectify that,” Danse said. “But first, we need to clean up.” He rolled over and buried his face between her thighs, and before the night was done, they both made up for their error several times over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is curious, my face claim for Chetan is Ranbir Kapoor.


	4. Metamorphosis

“He should have been back yesterday,” Danse said under his breath to Ellen as they followed Arthur up the hill. 

“I know,” she replied. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she tried to reassure him, but she wasn’t so sure herself. Chetan had left with his squadron four days earlier. They had been due back yesterday, but there was no word… not only had they not returned, but they weren’t answering the radio either. Danse had been pacing the Citadel for the last two days, polishing and repolishing his armour. The day patrol today was a welcome distraction.

“It’s almost lunch. Let’s just take a break.” Danse nodded, but his mind was clearly elsewhere as they stopped and pulled out their rations. 

Perhaps that was why he was caught off guard when the deathclaw swept him off his feet, knocking him nearly twenty feet away. Ellen’s laser rifle was nearby, and her training kicked in quickly. She fired at it and it turned to her, stamping its feet and snorting. She backed away, still firing, while Danse got to his feet and ran to retrieve his weapon. Arthur took longer, finally firing with an ungodly screech that turned its attention to him. Arthur realized his mistake at once, but it was too late. He stepped back, tripping over his bag and falling. The deathclaw turned on him, and sensing his vulnerability, ignored the other two despite their shouting and the laser blasts unleashed into its tough hide. 

Arthur had somehow managed to hang on to his laser pistol and he shot it in the face several times, quickly running out of ammo. Ellen threw a rock at it, hoping to distract it long enough to give Arthur time to reload or run away, but it continued to ignore them. Arthur threw his pistol at it in desperation. It stood and roared before swiping at Arthur, who rolled several feet away. It was on him again in seconds. 

Ellen thought for sure he was unconscious or dead as the beast raised him in the air, roaring once more, but somehow he was still awake. She just caught the glint of metal in his hand as at the last moment, he jammed his fist into the creature’s mouth and they both fell to the ground.

She crawled over to them, dragging Arthur away from the beast. He was out cold, but a bloody knife was still clenched in his hand. He’d somehow stabbed it in the brain from inside its mouth. His face was gouged from forehead to jaw, and was bleeding profusely. Danse rushed to her side and together they tried to staunch the blood. 

“I’m gonna have to stitch this,” she said. “It’s too wide to close properly if we just give him a stimpack.” Danse poured water over the wound. Arthur flinched but did not awaken. They gave him a shot of Med-X and Danse held him down as Ellen dug in the med kit for antiseptic and an emergency staple kit. She tried to keep her hands steady as she inexpertly closed the wound on his cheek. It wasn’t until the stimpack was applied that she finally let out her breath.

Ellen packed their things quickly, and Danse lifted Arthur and they began the long walk back to the Citadel, Ellen carrying most of the kit, while Danse carried Arthur. 

“I should have been paying attention. I never should have let it get the drop on me,” Danse said. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, it is, El. If I wasn’t so worried about Chey, I would have been able to stop this from happening.

“Danse...It was both our jobs to look out for him.”

“I’ll get him back, El, I swear. And as for him…” he nodded towards Arthur, “I swear I’ll make it up to him. I won’t let anything like this happen ever again.”

* * *

Arthur had a concussion in addition to the lacerations on his face and several puncture wounds in his shoulder and arm. The medics kept him sedated for a few days to give him time to heal. Ellen spent a lot of time in his room, watching over him. 

Danse was in and out, but his primary concern was for Chetan, who still had not returned. He was getting more angry by the hour at the higher-ups, who seemed more interested in loudly hyperbolizing Maxson’s feats than in looking for the lost squadron. 

“I’m going to look for him, El, if it means I have to desert.” Four days had passed since the deathclaw, and there was still no word. Ellen had left the med bay to get something to eat and was on her way back when Danse found her. 

“Danse…” she began. _Don’t go,_ she thought. _Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you too._ But the look in his eyes told her that her pleas would fall on deaf ears. “Have you at least asked for leave?” she asked instead.

“They’re dragging their feet. I can’t wait any longer. They can let me go or I will leave myself, but I’m not waiting any longer.”

Danse strode off angrily. Ellen watched him until he disappeared around the corner, then went in search of Elder Shaw.

“Sir, you have to let Knight Danse go find Knight Cutler. And you need to send a squad with him. It’s too dangerous to go alone, and he’s going to go whether you let him or not.”

“You’re talking mutiny, Knight.”

Ellen took a deep breath and looked the Elder in the eye. “If it weren’t for me, Danse would be working for the Enclave right now. We brought Maxson back alive. You will send Danse with a squadron to find Cutler or I will be going with him, and neither of us will be returning.”

The Elder leaned back in his chair for a moment. She could see the gears turning in his head. He was a weak man, elected after the Lyons had both passed, and he knew the loss of the “Lone Wanderer” would lose him the support of much of the Brotherhood.

Eventually he nodded. “Fine. I’ll tell him. Meanwhile, you go tell our young hero he’s about to be knighted.”

* * *

Danse and his assigned squadron were gone within hours, and the next few days were tense as she awaited their return. When word came that Brotherhood soldiers were approaching the gates, she ran to the courtyard, her heart in her throat.

When Danse strode in, her eyes shot to the others with him, hoping for a glimpse of dark skin and smiling eyes, but he wasn’t there. There was only Danse, and when he saw her, his mouth was grim and he shook his head. 

She forced herself to remain standing as he walked over to her, his eyes locked to hers. He had a cut running through his eyebrow and down his cheek. Not as bad as Arthur’s, but it would still leave a scar. Maybe that’s why he was frowning, she thought frantically. Maybe Chey was right behind them. She frantically tried to think of anything other than the worst, every bad thought she’d suppressed the last week or so finally rushing to the surface.

“Please, Danse,” she begged when he finally stood in front of her, her nose twitching at the unpleasant sulphur smell of the wasteland drifting off him.

“It was too late, El. I got there too late.”

* * *

They lay together that night, Ellen and Danse, in his and Chetan’s quarters. She held his head against her chest as he told her how he’d been captured by the mutants and infected by the FEV. Most of the squad was dead by the time Danse had arrived, but Chey was still alive, half himself and half something else. “He begged me. Begged me to end it. I didn’t want to, but there was nothing I could do.”

Ellen never knew how they got through the next few months. Ellen broke the news to Arthur, who didn’t cry. Instead, his face hardened into something stern and quiet. They attended the memorial, and Danse was given Chetan’s holotag. She stayed with him every night until eventually they came to the mutual decision to move in together, asking for new quarters and a new start as well.

Ellen was worried, as he stopped referring to Chetan by name, calling him only “Knight Cutler” whenever he was required to talk about him with anyone but Ellen. He changed, became quieter, more attentive, and more protective. Not only over Ellen, but Arthur as well. He laughed less, and he worked more, and sometimes at night he woke up with nightmares. He told her he dreamed of Chetan, but the deathclaw too. They were all jumbled up in his mind sometimes.

She encouraged him to talk to one of the medics. He resisted at first, but eventually he went for a few weeks, and the nightmares tapered off, although they never really stopped. Over time, however, he learned to smile again. They played chess with Arthur when they had a moment, walked hand in hand around the outer wall, and talked long into the night. Whatever else they had lost, at least they had each other.

* * *

At fourteen, Arthur Maxson was almost six feet tall and had a commanding demeanor that made even older and higher ranking soldiers fall in line without question. He’d been leading his own patrols since shortly after he’d healed from his injuries, and he seemed to be on a mission to eradicate every super mutant in the Capital Wasteland. 

Ellen was in the mess hall one day when he came in, talking intently to a scribe. She waited until they finished, then waved him over. He nodded, collecting his own meal, before joining her, sitting across from her on the opposite bench.

“You’ve been working hard,” she remarked.

“There’s a lot of work to be done.” He took a bite of his food, then another, concentrating on his meal in a way only a teenager can.

“You don’t have to take it all on yourself.”

Arthur looked up. She blinked at the sharp intensity in his blue eyes, the scar on his cheek standing out red as he clenched his jaw. “He was my friend too, El. Same as Danse. Same as you. I will not allow this to happen again.”

They watched each other for a long moment, then finally Ellen nodded, and Arthur returned to his meal.

* * *

Good to his word, Arthur rooted out the source of the mutant infestation within the year, earning himself a promotion to Paladin before he turned fifteen. The first time he led a team with Danse and Ellen, a basic recon mission to scout out the raider threat levels between the Capital Wasteland and the mouth of the Potomac, a casual comment from Danse resulted in a simple raised brow and a frown that made it clear that he would accept nothing less than his full due respect from everyone, including his friends.

Paladin Maxson was respected by everyone who served under him, despite his years, and his team was highly sought after, never lacking for volunteers for even the most dangerous or tedious missions. 

Elder Shaw, found dead in a prostitute’s room in Paradise Falls, was replaced with two more Elders in quick succession before Elder Murphy, who many suspected to be a chem addict and misappropriating resources from maintenance tasks. He was rarely seen and with no sentinel to maintain control, the Brotherhood would not have survived those two years without Arthur’s diligence and dedication. 

Despite his efforts, desertion was rampant, supply chains were beginning to break down, and the Outcasts were seen more and more frequently near Brotherhood outposts. Arthur did his best, working tirelessly to keep the order together. 

He rarely relaxed. The only people he let his guard down around were Ellen and Danse. They were often seen eating together or playing chess in the mess, if they were in the Citadel at the same time. 

“He works hard,” Ellen remarked one evening as she got ready for bed. 

“Hmm?” Danse replied. He was distracted, more interested in watching her undress than he was in what she was saying. 

“I said he works too hard. He should have a girlfriend or be vandalizing things or something.”

“Who?” Danse said, pulling her close and nibbling on her ear.

“Arthur Maxson,” Ellen replied, melting into his arms a little despite herself. 

“Shh, let’s worry about it tomorrow. I have better things to do,” Danse said, his mouth hot as he kissed his way to her breast. His lips closed over her nipple and she forgot what she had been talking about as he sucked on first one than the other. Eventually he moved lower and she almost forgot her own name.

* * *

She tried again a few days later, mentioning it to her friend Haylen over breakfast. 

“Do you think Paladin Maxson is lonely?” Ellen asked, handing half of her razorgrain bread to the scribe.

“He’s too busy to be lonely,” she laughed, glancing at the paladin in question, who sat in a corner hunched over a stack of papers as he crammed food in his mouth.

“I just think he needs to relax a little. He’s sixteen. He should be chasing girls, not busting his ass all the time, ordering around men twice his age.”

Haylen laughed even harder, earning a raised eyebrow from Ellen. The scribe took a drink from her mutfruit juice and smiled at Ellen. “There’s no way that’s gonna happen.”

Ellen glanced over at Arthur then leaned closer. “Why? Oh! A boyfriend! He needs a boyfriend!”

“No, you dummy,” Haylen said, rolling her eyes. “That boy’s had a crush on you for years. Everyone knows it.”

“Oh. Oh no,” Ellen said. She took a bite of her breakfast. “I really need to get him a friend.”

* * *

Her plan, however, fell to the wayside. A few days later, Elder Murphy, wandering aimlessly through an abandoned section of the building, was killed unceremoniously by a badly maintained wall. Within days, Arthur Maxson was proclaimed Elder, to the jubilation of all.


	5. Companionate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boundaries are examined.

“It could be worse,” Ellen said, eyeing their new quarters. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Danse asked, wrapping his arms around her. “I know your Dad passed away here.”

Ellen sighed. “There’s ghosts everywhere, Danse. I saw Chey in every corner of the Citadel, and I learned to let it bring me happiness instead of tears. This place… this was my Dad’s dream and I know he’d be proud that I am the one to look after it.”

“I have a harder time with that,” Danse told her. 

“I know.” She reached up and took his face between her hands, tugging until he bent to kiss her. “Now let’s get this place tidied up so we can christen our new room, Paladin.” 

It had been six months since Arthur had been made Elder, and there had been a rejuvenation in the order ever since. Arthur had big plans for the Brotherhood, starting with an air force consisting of the vertibirds acquired from the Enclave several years earlier, as well as a large airship to be used as a mobile base and troop carrier.

He had promoted Danse, and then a short time later, Ellen, to Paladin, assigning them to Project Purity. Ostensibly it was to oversee the security of the installation, but in reality, Danse’s mission was to track the Brotherhood Outcasts, and upon finding their leader, bring him to Maxson, by force if necessary, while Ellen took charge of the water shipments from the purifier, hopefully recruiting more wastelanders in the process. 

They worked quickly, clearing off the bed in their new room and unpacking their things. Danse sat on the chair and pulled her close, pushing her shirt up to kiss her belly. “Hm, Paladin. Do you have orders for me?” 

Danse chuckled into her belly. “You’re a Paladin too.”

“Yeah but it sounds hotter on you.”

“Fine, if you want orders, I can oblige,” he said. “Get on the bed.”

Ellen complied, kneeling on the bed and waiting for him to tell her to undress, which he did in short order. She stripped carefully, watching him watching her, his voice getting deeper as he directed her to touch herself, her breasts, her inner thighs. She spread her legs and then her pussy open for his view. 

Danse undid his pants. “What if one of the knights came in here,” he said. “What if he saw you. All open like that on the bed. I’d have to let him take you.”

Ellen slid her fingers into herself, imagining it. It was a game they often played, although there’d been nobody else since Chetan. “I bet he’s got a big cock,” she whispered, imagining a nameless guy, some knight, pushing himself into her while Danse watched. She added a second finger. 

She looked at Danse through her lashes. His eyes were fixed on her pussy as his hand moved on his cock. “What are you gonna do, Paladin? Are you gonna make me suck your dick while he fucks me?” She removed her fingers and licked them off, sucking on them the way she knew he liked his cock sucked. “Or are you gonna fuck him?”

Danse stood, pushing his pants the remainder of the way off. He stepped over to the bed and rolled her onto her belly, hitching her hips up into him. He licked his thumb and circled her asshole. Bending over close to her, he growled in her ear. “Maybe I’ll make you take us both.” 

Ellen reached behind and spread her ass cheeks wide, but Danse didn’t take advantage. Instead he slowly hilted himself inside her pussy, and when he was all the way in, he wet his thumb again and pushed it into her ass. 

“Do you like that? Taking two cocks?” Danse’s voice shook as he fucked her.

She could only moan her assent as she fucked him back, trying to take him deeper and harder. It wasn’t enough. She pushed back into him, and he grabbed her hair, pressing her face down into the bedding. She bit down on the sheet as the slight change in angle caused his balls to slap up against her clit. A moment later she was coming, hard, and he was right behind her, pulling her hair and slamming into her as he filled her up. 

When they had cooled off and lay, sated, in each other’s arms, Danse turned to her. “El, I know we mess around, saying things, but you know...how would you feel…” he trailed off.

Ellen narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you asking?” 

“Ellen, I’d never do anything without you, or without your knowledge and permission. I would never hurt you. But you know, Rivet City is just down the road, and maybe if we went together…”

Ellen let out a breath. “I don’t know, Danse. A stranger? That would be weird.”

There was a long silence. Ellen thought about it, imagining it for real. Someone else in bed with them. Another man, or maybe another woman. It wasn’t a terrible idea, but it would be awkward.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for one night stands, Danse. But… I think I would be okay with opening our relationship up. If we met the right person.”

Danse huffed and her eyes shot to his face, but he was smiling. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “You know, that’s exactly what Chey said to me before we met you.”

* * *

With the mission at hand, it was sometimes months before they were able to get to the Citadel, and rarely at the same time. Henry Casdin, the leader of the Brotherhood Outcasts, proved harder to track down than initially anticipated, and the majority of the communication between the two outposts was by radio.

Furthermore, there had been a steep increase in synth sightings and attacks since Maxson had become the Elder, with a great many of them falling on the Project Purity facility directly. In response, the Brotherhood increased patrols between the two outposts. Still, it was less safe to travel the roads of the Capital Wasteland than it had been at any time since the mutant threat had been eradicated. 

Casdin was finally tracked down at Fort Independence. He went willingly with Danse. His numbers had been impacted by synth attacks as well, and he was open to discussion with Maxson about reuniting the two groups.

It had been almost six months since they had been in the Citadel when Danse and Ellen walked through the gates, accompanied by Casdin. The talks took days, and Danse and Ellen took the time to catch up with their Brothers and Sisters and requisition supplies for the water plant while Maxson remained sequestered with his opponent.

They finally emerged, having come to an agreement. Casdin was to remain second in command to Maxson. The Outcast troops were brought back into the fold, and a celebration was held, with many people being reunited with old friends they hadn’t seen in years.

Arthur had dark circles under his eyes, Ellen noticed. He smiled and played his role as dignitary at the gathering, but she could tell he was exhausted. As soon as she was able, she went to speak with him.

“How are you holding up?” she asked quietly. 

“It’s been a busy few days,” he replied. “I’m glad to see you, though. I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to visit.”

Ellen wanted to hug him, but if there was one thing Arthur Maxson understood, it was the value of appearances. He would not appreciate an unprofessional gesture in public. 

He took a sip from his drink, looking at her over the rim of his glass. Something flashed in his eyes, but was quickly extinguished, and he scanned the room briefly, his gaze landing on Danse before coming back to rest on her. “We could have a game of chess tomorrow? When all this settles down?”

Ellen looked over at Danse, who was watching them from across the room. “Perhaps. We’re due back at Project Purity tomorrow evening.”

Arthur grinned. “I can probably get you an extension on that, if you like.” 

“Done, Sir,” Ellen smiled back.

* * *

Arthur beat them both at chess, as he often did, and they all sat up chatting into the night and catching up on the past several months. Arthur sat at the table in the Elder’s quarters, fiddling with the abandoned chess pieces while Ellen lay on the sofa, her feet in Danse’s lap as he slowly ran his hand up and down her leg.

It was nice to relax for once, and she noticed that Arthur was looking a little better than the night before, the dark circles having faded somewhat and a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. They hadn’t all been together in months and she was pretty sure he hadn’t taken a moment off the entire time.

Arthur looked up from his fiddling to see her watching him, and he looked away quickly, a red flush staining his cheeks. She looked at Danse, but he seemed occupied with creeping his hand up her leg a little higher than was strictly appropriate and was not paying attention to Arthur. She felt a warm flood of heat in her body.

She sat up suddenly, pulling her legs from Danse’s lap. 

“I think it’s bedtime. I’m super tired.” 

Arthur stood up. “Yeah, it’s pretty late. And I think you have an early morning.”

Danse looked between the two of them quizzically, before shrugging and getting to his feet as well, towering over them both. He began gathering his things and Ellen inched towards the door. Arthur stayed by the table, and the redness in his face did not diminish as he watched Danse bend to retrieve a shoe from the floor. 

She looked at the floor and waited until Danse finally finished what he was doing, gave Arthur a friendly pat on the arm, and then gave her a squeeze on her ass and growled, “definitely bedtime,” before following her out the door. 

They walked down the hallway towards their room. “You’re not _that_ tired are you?” Danse asked.

“I’m never _that_ tired,” Ellen snickered, sliding her hand into his. 

“Good.” he said. There was a pause. “Haylen was right,” Danse remarked.

Ellen stopped and peered up at him. “About what?”

“About Arthur Maxson. He _definitely_ has a crush on you.”


	6. Setting the Pace

With the reunification of the Brotherhood came an influx of troops to Project Purity, and the accompanying paperwork, communications, scheduling, and things of that nature. The next few months flew by, with both paladins kept busy. 

The extra soldiers came in handy, as synth attacks continued to increase. They lost two or three people every month, and they began to identify various types of synths. Most of them were robotic, and there were also the human-like ones they had known about for years. Neither was too difficult to deal with, at least not in small numbers. But sometimes they were accompanied by a strong, human like synth that looked like a real person but was much stronger and deadlier. 

Danse was officially in charge of the purifier facility, so Ellen took over the patrols, and with a heavily armoured Paladin in the group, they began to see fewer losses. Still, it took a toll. She came in one afternoon and slumped into the chair at Danse’s desk, letting her tongue loll out in exaggerated exhaustion. 

“They keep coming, Danse.”

“I know. I’ve been talking with Arthur. He wants to send an expedition to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts to see if they can gather some more information on where they are coming from. I suggested Paladin Brandis for the mission.”

“Well, at least you didn’t volunteer,” Ellen said. “Are you almost done?” she pointed at his paperwork. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” He got up and pulled her to her feet. “Listen, I hate to ask, but I need you to go with the patrol to the Citadel tomorrow. I can’t spare anyone else.”

“Yeah, I can do that. I don’t mind. It will be nice to see Arthur. It was his birthday last week. He’s eighteen.”

“Right, I forgot. Buy him a drink for me will you?” Danse grinned at her.

“A drink?”

“Just a drink.”

“Danse…”

“Maybe you can find out if he really does have a crush on you.” He winked.  
Ellen stared at him, slack jawed.

“I wouldn’t be mad,” he added.

* * *

She had mostly put it out of her mind late the next afternoon when she walked into the Citadel, bottle in hand, and headed to Arthur’s office. But when she walked in and he swung around in his chair, the welcoming smile on his face sitting amidst a new, but vigorous beard, she couldn’t help the choked noise that burst from her throat. 

His eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly, trying to compose herself. She stumbled to the chair and sat down, mumbling something about patrols. Suddenly, she remembered the other reason she was there. “I believe I missed your birthday, too,” she said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of scotch. “This is from Danse,” she said.

Arthur looked at it for a moment, then reached for the bottle. He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I don’t have any glasses in here,” he said. “But I have some in my quarters. Are you up for a game of chess?” He asked her.

* * *

She had thought it would be awkward. 

Given the conversation she’d had with Danse before she left, she had been certain that it would be weird between them. But their rapport was casual and easy as they sipped half the bottle of scotch, watered down with nuka cola, and played chess until Ellen finally gave up halfway through the game, the heat from the alcohol making it even harder than normal to beat him. 

He got up, taking her glass and adding a little more cola to it, leaving the scotch alone. He handed it to her, and she glanced up, smiling in thanks. Way up. When had he gotten so tall? He was not as tall as Danse, but he still had several inches on her five and a half feet. 

She moved towards the couch and Arthur followed. When she sat down, folding her feet underneath her, he sat next to her, resting his arm along the back of the couch. He smiled, and her stomach flipped over. She wanted to touch him, to see if the beard was as soft as it looked. 

She sipped her drink, trying to get her thoughts - and her body temperature - back under control. _Definitely not awkward,_ she told herself sarcastically. 

Perhaps a change of topic. Was there even a topic? She wasn’t even sure anymore. She wracked her brain for a minute, her eyes flitting about the room, until they fell on an old book she’d given him one year for Christmas. 

“You still have that?” she asked, pointing at his shelf. 

“Yeah, I read it a few times, at least.” She smiled, more comfortable now that they were back on familiar ground. They reminisced about the book for a while, and the conversation led to other books, and then old memories.

“The first time I saw you, you had your hair all stuck up and you were covered in gore,” Arthur said. “I think I like it better long. He reached out and ran his finger through her hair, twining it around his finger for a second before letting it drop. His eyes traveled from her hair, across her cheek and stayed on her mouth.

_And… we’re back to awkward._ she thought. He blinked, hard, then without warning, he looked away, and she was surprised at how disappointed she was. She leaned closer, and he turned back. She thought he might kiss her. And she _wanted him to._

She licked her lips, leaning towards him ever so slightly, when he whispered, “I think you should go.”

Her stomach flipped and she looked at him for a long time before nodding and standing up to leave. He walked her to the door and she left quickly, but she didn’t walk away. Instead she leaned on the door for a moment, her stomach in knots.

She was pretty sure she was getting a crush on him too.

* * *

Ellen laid in bed for an hour, tossing and turning, before getting up and sitting at the terminal in her room. It was connected to the network of computers that the Brotherhood had set up between several of its outposts, including Project Purity.

She hesitated a moment before opening a message to Danse.

**I can’t tell if he has a crush on me or not,** she typed. She waited a minute, then hit send. 

She stared at the green screen for a long time, half wishing she could take it back. He was probably not going to answer tonight anyway. It was late. She was about to get up when the terminal beeped.

**I’m pretty sure he does**

Ellen scowled at the screen for a minute

**How do you even tell?**

**Because I have a crush on you so I would know.**

She rolled her eyes. 

**What if I get a crush on him? He grew a beard.** She happened to know that Danse tended to keep his facial hair around in large part because she enjoyed it so much.

Danse’s reply came quickly. **Honestly? That’s hot. I say go for it.**

* * *

She found him in the mess hall the next morning, hunched over papers and eating a gigantic bowl of boiled razorgrain. She wrinkled her nose and sat down across from him. She waited a moment, and when he didn’t say anything, she decided to go first. 

“Hi, Arthur,” she ventured. 

He scowled, but he bit out a sour sounding “Good morning,” before taking another bite of his breakfast. 

She watched him for a moment, noticing his fist clenched, white knuckled around his spoon. A red flush started at his neck and crept its way up his face. She leaned forward, fascinated.

“I’m sorry for…” he began. There was a long pause before he continued. “... for throwing you out. I was… tired.”

Ellen peered at him. She gnawed at her lip for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and deciding to dive in. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“I don’t need to head back until tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “Do you want to finish that bottle and our game tonight?” Her heart was racing. She didn’t know what she’d do if he said no. If she thought she felt awkward before…

“I don’t think that would be appropriate.” He said. “Danse-”

Was that what the problem was? Danse was not a problem here. 

“I’ll worry about Danse,” she interrupted. “I’ll see you at nine.” She stood up and walked away before she could chicken out.

* * *

Ellen went to the requisition office to have someone take her down to the storage level. She had a bunch of stuff down there from her quarters that she hadn’t taken to Project Purity. Luckily, what she wanted wasn’t hard to find.

At nine o’clock, she knocked on the door, dressed in the yellow dress she’d bought in Rivet City years ago. It was one of her favourites, and she wanted to look her best. 

The smile she plastered on her face was bolder than she felt, but she breezed past him anyway, walking directly to the chessboard, which was right where they had left it. 

She took the drink he offered her, taking a sip without tasting it and then setting it down behind her. She figured she should bring up Danse, but she didn’t really want to. His face was red, and she was so nervous, that instead she blurted out the first thing that popped into her mind.

“Arthur, have you ever… been with a girl before?”

_Oh shit, why did I say that?_ she thought frantically, trying to figure out how to backpedal. 

His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide, but he shook his head, no.

_Really?_ she wondered. _Why the hell not?_ She smiled at him nervously, then looked up at him with trepidation, placing her hands on his chest, trying not to panic. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone new, that she really had no idea what she was doing. 

“What about… you and…” 

She really didn’t want to talk about Danse right now, so she said in a rush, “I told you. Don’t worry about him. I’ve known Danse a long time, and I promise you, he’s not the sort of man who minds sharing.”

Why did she tell him that? Now he would think they were weird. She looked up at him, bracing herself for him to tell her to go away, to leave him alone. He smelled good, standing so close. Different than Danse but still good, a blend of the familiar dust and soap smells of the Citadel, laser fire, and scotch. She inhaled, her whole body throbbing with the uncomfortable combination of need and anxiety.

That was when he kissed her.

It was the faintest brush of his lips against hers, a split second, then he was back without a pause, as though he’d missed the first time, pressing his mouth against hers. He was gentle, but unpracticed, sipping at her lips tentatively for a moment before tasting her with just the tip of his tongue.

But she was thirsty, and yes, she wanted this. Wanted more. She opened her mouth to let him in, and he let out a feral sounding growl, wrapping his arms around her and moving her backwards until she was jammed up against the table. 

He pushed against her urgently, going from tentative to animalistic in a second. It spurred her on, her pussy flooding in readiness. She followed his lead, abandoning all sense of romance in her desire to touch him. Her fingers flew to his pants and she worked frantically to get them open, pressing her hand against his belly to try and get him to slow down so she could get them open. 

By the time she finally slid her hand into his pants he was mouthing at her neck, the roughness of his beard sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. But when she got her hands around his cock, it was apparently too much for him. Wetness flooded her hand, and she pulled it out and looked at it in surprise, not realizing what had happened at first. 

His groan was less the keening sound of pleasure than it was of embarrassment. She felt terrible. She’d gotten so caught up, she’d forgotten it was his first time. She should have stopped him. 

Ellen took a breath, quelling her own arousal and placed her other hand on the back of his head. He rested his face on her shoulder, taking a long, shuddering breath. She stroked his hair for a few minutes. 

“I just…” he took a deep breath and backed away from her. “I’m sorry..” 

He was sorry? If anything it was her fault. “It’s ok,” she said. “We can try again in a bit.” Assuming he wanted to. She went into the bathroom and washed her hands, before coming back out again and giving him the towel. He took it without looking in her eyes. She sat down on the couch to wait, looking up at the ceiling until he returned, still wearing his pants. She patted the seat beside her and he sat down, still not looking at her. 

“It takes practice. To learn self control,” she said, awkwardly. “Do you… want to try again?” 

“Yes,” he said quietly. She realized then that the young man who ran the Brotherhood with such self assurance and confidence was not the young man in the room with her right now. She thought back to her first time, how they had lavished her with so much care and attention. 

Arthur deserved that, too. 

She smiled at him, taking his face between her hands and kissing him gently. She was all twisted around, so she climbed onto his lap so she could kiss him more easily, taking his hands when he seemed unsure and placing them on her thighs, pulling her dress up so he could touch her skin.

She kissed him a little harder. He was eager, but not as frantic as before, so she let him set the pace as he cupped her ass and rocked her into the quickly growing bulge in his pants. 

She leaned back a little giving him more access when he reached up and started on the buttons of her dress, pushing it out of the way and cupping her breast through her bra. She sighed, rolling her hips against him in pleasure. He squeezed harder and began fumbling at her bra. Eager to have his hands on her, she removed it herself, leaning towards him so he could cup and squeeze her, before burying his face between them.

When she could barely stand it a second longer, he _finally_ took one firm nipple in his mouth and sucked, sending pleasure straight through her. She sighed in relief, and he flicked his thumb against her other nipple and sucked harder, working her with his tongue and lips like he’d been practicing for years.

She rolled her hips against him but it wasn’t enough. She needed him inside her. She got up and yanked his pants down to his knees, then pulled her panties off without even removing her dress, leaving it bunched awkwardly around her waist. She climbed back on his lap and without any further preamble, guided him inside her. 

She adjusted her position, riding his cock with her hands braced on his shoulders as he held onto her. She found the right position, tilted her hips just so and it only took a minute until she was coming, waves of pleasure radiating through her body, aware of him watching her face in a way that was both embarrassing and hot at the same time. 

Just as the last shuddering waves of her climax faded, he grabbed her roughly, bracing his feet and thrusting into her, chasing his own orgasm down relentlessly.

* * *

Ellen stayed all night in Arthur’s room, but they didn’t get much sleep. In the morning she left to prepare for her trip back to the Jefferson Memorial, and he brought her behind the wall of the firing range to say goodbye. 

“Don’t worry about Danse,” she told him, noting the worry in his eyes. He nodded, looking up at the wall behind her head. She followed his gaze to see a sulphur-yellow butterfly there, slowly folding its wings in the sun. They watched together as it fluttered lightly into the breeze, floating gently above them until it landed delicately on Ellen’s head. She reached up to brush it away.

“Don’t,” he said, taking it gently from her hair and setting it free in the breeze. He kissed her one last time, and then she turned to go.


	7. The Nascent Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which new bonds begin to form.

Ellen got in late, and Danse was in their quarters already. She walked in and set her bag down, kicking off her shoes and greeting him warily. Regardless of her reassurances to Arthur, she was still not entirely sure how Danse was going to react. She thought it would be good, but sometimes people reacted differently to hypothetical versus real situations.

Danse was polishing his laser rifle, and he began putting everything away methodically, before coming over and wrapping his arms around her. He felt like home, and she hugged him back, fisting her hands in his shirt and squeezing him gratefully.

He leaned back and smiled at her. “How was your trip?” he asked. 

“Good. We got the parts and the water is being distributed as we speak.”

Danse’s finger traced down her neck to the collar of her shirt, tugging it down slightly. Her skin was sensitive and chafed from Arthur’s beard and she knew he had left marks on her. “And how is Arthur?”

“He’s good.”

“Hmm. That’s good.” His voice deepened. “Was I right? About how he feels?” 

“Yeah.”

“Did he kiss you? Here?” His fingertips and his mouth were at her throat and she nodded.

“Did he touch you? Here?” 

He ran his hand to her breast and she breathed “Yes.”

“How about here?” His hand slid lower, between her legs.

“Yes.” She could feel heat flooding her body. 

He unzipped her pants, shoving his hand inside and pressing a finger into her drenched pussy. 

“Did he fuck you, El?”

“Yeah, Danse. More than once.”

He growled and bent to yank her pants off, tossing them aside before picking her up and setting her on the desk. He undid his pants and shoved them down just enough to free his cock, lining himself up and entering her in one stroke. 

He kissed her hungrily, wrapping her legs around him. “You’re so wet,” he muttered. “Did he make you come?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he slipped his hand between them and stroked her clit, fucking her harder. She heard something fall off the desk and smash, but she didn’t care. She urged him on and he sped up until she came apart, clinging to him with her hands on his shoulders and her legs around his waist. He was right behind her, muttering her   
name as he found his release.

* * *

She was back in the Citadel two weeks later, Danse having offered to go the previous week after she had caught a cold. She wanted to rush to Arthur’s office, but she restrained herself, dropping her stuff off and cleaning up, and visiting with Haylen and some of her other friends over the evening meal, before finally making her way to his suite and knocking.

He was damp, bare from the chest up, and rubbing his head with a towel. His hair hung in his eyes, and his beard, which had grown more in the last few weeks, curled slightly. A bead of water ran down his chest to his navel, disappearing into the dark hair below. Her eyes dropped lower, noticing the bulge in his underwear. 

She didn’t realize she was just standing there until he cleared his throat, and her eyes shot to his face. “Hi, Ellen,” he remarked, stepping aside and holding the door open for her. 

She went in, and he closed the door behind her before wrapping his arms around her from behind and nuzzling at her neck. She turned in his arms and kissed him. “Hi,” he said again. “Would you like a drink?” 

She nodded and when he pulled away to get it for her, she went and sat on the couch. He handed her the glass and sat down beside her. She took a sip and peered at him over her glass. 

“I think we should talk,” she finally said. “About Danse.”

Arthur’s lips tightened for just an instant. He set his glass on the table and took her hand in between his. “You should know that we talked last week.”

Of course they had. She should have realized it already. 

“Ellen, I don’t want to come between you. I want you to know that. As long as everyone’s honest, I don’t know why there should be any problems. I just want you to be happy.” He laced his fingers with hers.

Ellen looked down at their interlaced fingers. His thumb was stroking her wrist gently. She had to conclude he was right. As long as they were honest, not only in her relationship with each man, but also between the two of them, there was no reason to worry. 

“You’re right,” she said, setting her glass down besides his, before pulling him over her as she leaned back into the cushion. 

Arthur smiled against her lips. “Since we’re being honest,” he said, “I should tell you…” his mouth moved down her throat and began the long trek down her body. “I’m really, _really_ hungry.”

* * *

Although as the next few months passed by, Danse was rarely able to visit, Ellen found herself at the Citadel at least once a week. While Arthur worked hard to maintain his public image, maintaining strict professionalism at all times while in public, in private, with Ellen, he was more relaxed. They often played chess, although she rarely won. He read a lot, and liked to have animated discussions with her about whatever topic he was interested in that week. 

As Arthur grew more comfortable with their relationship, his natural self-control and restraint took over and he became adept at drawing their assignations out, sometimes teasing and exploring her for hours. 

Aside from the first time after she returned, Danse rarely brought it up, and for the most part, she kept the details of her relationship with Arthur private from Danse, and the other way around. She had no idea if they talked about her, although she knew they communicated regularly. 

Ellen tried not to think about it. She loved Danse, and she loved Arthur too, just as much. Although she tried not to worry about Danse when she was with Arthur, or vice versa, ultimately she wasn’t sure how the situation would resolve, and with both of them being in different places, it never seemed that pressing.

Not that she didn’t imagine with great regularity how it could be with both of them. 

Meanwhile, the Brotherhood continued to strengthen under Arthur Maxson, and he was well liked and respected among everyone, whether they were from the Outcasts, new recruits, or just long time members who had been there for years.

The synth attacks continued over the next half a year or so, concentrating heavily on the water purification system at Project Purity. They fortified the building and increased patrols, while construction on the Prydwen carried on ahead of schedule. According to Arthur, it would be done in under two years. 

They had lost contact with Paladin Brandis’ recon mission in the Commonwealth, and there was some discussion of sending another, but due to the failure of the previous mission, it was decided to wait until the Prydwen was nearer completion. 

Finally, one week, after having lost two soldiers in three days on the formerly safe road between the Jefferson Memorial and Project Purity, Danse informed Ellen he would come with her to the Citadel. He wanted to propose some fortification and manpower changes to the higher ups, and the meeting needed to be held in person.

* * *

The meeting went well, according to Danse. New troops were requested and twenty additional turrets were requested, which would be constructed soon and sent along with the extra men.   
Ellen was sitting on a bench in the weapon shop, telling stories to a small crowd of initiates, when Danse found her. She saw him by the door, waiting so she took her leave and joined him, slipping her hand into his and letting him lead her down the hallway. 

“Arthur’s ordered dinner for us in his quarters,” he told her. 

She squeezed his hand, murmuring a response. 

Danse stopped walking and turned to her. “You’re not still worried, are you?” 

“No, not really. Not in that way. Just, what if it’s weird? We haven’t all done anything together since… for months, and I don’t know. What if it’s weird?”

Danse pulled her close and she relaxed into his arms. “Ellen, you are the single biggest worrier I’ve ever met. It will be fine. We’ll have a drink, whatever. Stop worrying, and just let things go. Whatever happens, happens.”

She nodded, and they continued down the hallway. Whatever happens, happens? What did that even mean? Did he mean they should just relax and hang out or was he thinking something else? The reassurance she’d gotten from Danse’s words lasted all of three seconds, but she didn’t say anything else, and if he noticed how quiet she’d gotten, he didn’t bring it up again until they were headed to Arthur’s quarters about an hour later. 

“It will be fine,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I promise.”

* * *

Danse was right. It was fine. 

They ate their meal, had a few drinks from the bottle of bourbon Danse had brought, and eventually Arthur brought his chess board out. Danse threw his hands up. “I’m out. I don’t think my self respect can handle a defeat tonight. I’m just gonna sit over here and watch.”

Arthur laughed as he set up the pieces, and Ellen poured everyone another drink and sat down to play. The game took well over an hour, and Danse grew quiet. She glanced over at him. It looked like he’d fallen asleep on the couch. She looked at Arthur for a moment, but he was concentrating on the board intently, so she took a sip and waited for him to make his final move. She watched him as he focused on the board, his brows drawn down and his jaw clenched. He looked angry, but she knew he was just focused really hard on what he was doing. He made the same face sometimes when he was concentrating on her…

She felt heat flood her body, and took another drink. Now was not the time. She glanced at Danse again, who hadn’t moved. Her pussy throbbed and she shifted in her seat, trying to ease the ache between her legs. 

“Ellen?” Her eyes shot to Arthur’s. She blinked at him.

“Checkmate,” he said, his voice low.

Ellen blinked at the chessboard, unseeing. 

“You lose. You put it away,” he chuckled. 

She stood up and began putting the game away, while he leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and watched her. If they’d been alone, she would have ignored the board and dragged him to bed. But they weren’t. They weren’t.

She slid the board onto its place on the shelf and turned around. Arthur, sprawled in his chair, was looking at her intensely. Danse was still asleep, and she regarded him for a moment. She didn’t think he was going to wake up, and even if he did, what then? He’d never shown a scrap of jealousy towards Arthur. There was no reason to do anything but trust him.

Making up her mind, she walked over to Arthur, who looked up at her curiously. Before she could lose her nerve, she bent to kiss him. 

She’d been so worked up about Danse, she hadn’t even thought about Arthur’s reaction. He pushed her away, staring wide-eyed between her and Danse. She laughed nervously. “Don’t worry about him,” she said, as much to herself as to Arthur. 

She got to her knees in front of him and ran her hands up his thighs, looking him in the eye. “It will be fine, I promise.” He stared at her for a moment, then gave a small nod. 

She lifted the bottom of his shirt and kissed his navel. The hair there tickled her nose and she rubbed her cheek against him, enjoying the roughness against her skin. She glanced up at him. His blue eyes were dark as he watched her intently, spurring her on. 

Her fingers found the button of his pants and she unbuttoned them, slipping her hand inside to wrap around his cock, stroking the velvet hard shaft gently. He swelled against her palm, and her mouth watered. She wanted to taste him.

He didn’t protest when she tugged at his pants. Instead, he lifted his ass up slightly to let her pull them down enough to get him out, letting out a low hiss when she took him in her mouth. He leaned back in his chair as she worked on him, coordinating the movements of her hand and mouth. His fingers tangled in her hair, urging her on, encouraging her to take him faster, deeper, and she obliged, squeezing his shaft and trying her best to get the head as far down her throat as possible. 

Her pussy was soaked with need, and she arched her back, whimpering a little. Arthur stiffened and she thought he was coming, so she glanced up at him, but his eyes were glazed, staring off over her shoulder, so she resumed her task until suddenly his fingers tightened painfully in her hair as he bucked up into her mouth, spurting so much she had a hard time swallowing it all. 

Arthur’s mouth was hanging open and he looked more wrecked than she’d ever seen him. She licked him clean, and then, to her disappointment, he tucked himself back into his pants, glancing at Danse with trepidation. "It's getting late," he whispered, and she nodded unhappily and got to her feet, turning to look at Danse, who hadn’t moved.

Ellen went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face, trying desperately to cool her heated system. When she returned, Arthur had apparently woken Danse, who was standing groggily by the door waiting for her. 

They didn't speak as they made their way to their room, but as soon as they were inside, Danse pulled her into his arms. "That was hot as hell, El," he told her, his voice thick with lust.

"I thought you were asleep!"

"I was kind of half dozing at first, and then I didn't want to interrupt. Anyway, he saw me watching, and he didn't stop you."

Ellen could feel her face heating up and but she was more turned on than ever, despite herself. 

Danse started pulling at her pants, sliding a hand inside as soon as he was able. "You’re so wet," he told her, working his fingers between her folds. It only took one brush against her bud before she came, standing and fully dressed, on his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was slightly longer than most, but the next one is going to be excessively short.


	8. Flutter...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's Chapter

Arthur Maxson looked at himself in the mirror the next morning and frowned. He tried to see if any indication of the unusual evening he had experienced the night before was showing on his face, but of course, aside from the darker than normal circles under his eyes, his appearance was unremarkable. 

He took a deep breath. After Ellen and Danse had left the night before, he had laid awake for a long time. He had come to the conclusion long ago that he was in love with Ellen, but he had to admit that his feelings for Danse were… complicated… as well. 

When their eyes had met over Ellen's head as she took him in her mouth, he had been shocked at how much he had enjoyed it. He closed his eyes and imagined for a moment that instead of remaining on the sofa, Danse had gotten up. Stood up and... what? What then? Come close, perhaps? Touched Ellen? Taken her from behind, maybe, while she had Arthur in her mouth? 

He wasn't sure if he would ever have the chance - or the courage - to find out.

He splashed water on his face to cool his flaming cheeks. Then, after giving himself one more inspection to make sure he was presentable, the commanding leader of the Brotherhood of Steel that he needed to be, he headed out to get on with his day.

* * *

Arthur nodded to the soldiers he met along the way as he made his way to the courtyard. Ellen and Danse and their contingent were scheduled to leave shortly, and he wanted to be there to see them off.

He stepped out into the sunlight and blinked for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the bright morning sun. When he saw them across the courtyard, he smiled tightly and headed towards them.

Aware of the soldiers nearby, they chatted for a moment, making small talk of the trek back and the weather. Finally, having run out of things to say, he gave Ellen a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning to Danse. He shook his hand, and looked up at him, but the sharp, knowing look in Danse’s eyes was suddenly too much for Arthur and he dropped his gaze to the ground as Danse pulled back.

Arthur’s eye caught on something yellow on the ground and without thinking, he bent to pick it up. 

It was a butterfly, bright yellow, with a single spot on each wing. His mind flashed back to the day he’d seen a similar butterfly land on Ellen. _Clouded sulphur._ His mind provided the name. He’d looked it up afterwards, intrigued by its delicate, fragile beauty. 

Too fragile to live. Its wing was crushed, the butterfly broken and dead in his hand. He closed his eyes, imagining Ellen, crushed by the harshness of the wasteland. She was in danger every time she came here. He couldn’t let that happen.

The squad was almost to the gates, and he hurried to catch up, grabbing Danse by the arm and stopping him just in time. 

“Don’t let her come here alone.” 

“What?” Danse looked confused.

“Ellen. Don’t let her come here alone anymore. Come with her, or don’t let her come at all.”

Danse looked at him for a long time before nodding curtly and turning to leave.

It wasn’t until later that night that he realized how his order may have been misconstrued.


	9. Two in the Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice long chapter to make up for the last one.

Danse was quiet for the march back to the Jefferson Memorial, and Ellen suspected it had something to do with whatever Arthur had said to him just before they had left. As curious as she was, she didn’t have time to talk with Danse that day. There was a lot to do with arranging the new supplies and recruits, and it was late before they got into their quarters and simply fell into bed. 

She woke up early the next morning. They had no window, but there was a night light she kept on a timer, not unlike the automated lights she’d grown up with in the Vault. She rolled over and propped her head up with her hand, looking over at Danse, who slept on his back, snoring lightly. 

He still had nightmares. He sometimes woke in a cold sweat, looking wildly around the room. More often, he just mumbled Chetan’s name in his sleep. She would hold him tightly and he would calm down, and over time, they had lessened, especially once they had moved across the river. 

This morning, his sleep was peaceful and undisturbed. 

Ellen traced her finger along his cheek, admiring his face in profile, then ran her hand down his chest, coming to rest on his belly, feeling it rise and fall beneath her hand as he breathed. He was warm to the touch - he had always been warm, a natural heater she was so used to at this point that she felt cold when she slept alone.

A soft rumble from his chest had her peering up at him. He was smiling at her, and when their eyes met he pulled her close, kissing her gently. 

“I don’t have morning breath, do I?” Ellen whispered.

“If you did, I wouldn’t tell you,” Danse laughed, kissing her again and pulling her on top of him. She rolled her hips against him, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of his hands as they roamed her body. The t-shirt and underwear she wore seemed to melt away, and soon thereafter he sat up so she could wrap her legs around his waist as he lifted her onto his cock.

They were eye to eye as they slowly moved together, wrapped around each other tightly. They took their time, their movements unhurried as they kissed and touched each other, and when they finished, they remained that way for a long time, with Danse inside her as she held him tightly.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Ellen asked.

“I’ve never doubted it for a second,” he replied. His hand brushed her hair aside and he cupped the back of her head in his big hand and pulled her close for another kiss.

* * *

“Arthur wants me to go with you to the Citadel from now on,” Danse told her as they got dressed. 

“What? Why?” Ellen mumbled around her toothbrush.

“That’s what I was thinking about yesterday. At first, I thought maybe he wanted… well. Never mind. But then I realized he looked more worried than anything else, so I think he’s just worried about you.”

Ellen spat into the sink. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, well so could Lightoller. And Dawson,” he said, naming two knights killed by synths in the last month. Cutler’s name hung unspoken in the air.

Ellen frowned, and opened her mouth to protest more, but Danse cut her off. “It wouldn’t hurt to increase the size of all our squads. We’re supposed to be making the Capital Wasteland safer, and it’s just getting more dangerous."

* * *

“One benefit to this is that I can give my armour a proper once over more often,” Danse said a few weeks later when she found him in the armour bay at the Citadel. She rolled her eyes. If there was one thing Danse loved as much as her, it was his power armour. Two years earlier, he’d traded the T-45 set he’d been issued as a knight in for one of the first sets of T-60 in the Brotherhood. 

“You missed a spot,” Ellen said. 

He looked alarmed. “Where?” 

Ellen laughed. “Here!” she said, pointing at her lips. 

Danse stood and wiped his hands, giving her a peck on the corner of her mouth. “What time is it? I’m starving?”

“It’s dinner time, but Arthur’s invited us to eat with him.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. I think he’d feel like he was stepping on your toes if he invited just me.” Ellen could feel her face heating up.

Danse raised an eyebrow and her face got even hotter. 

“Shut up. I’m going to have a shower.” She turned and left, his laugh following her out the door.

* * *

Danse joined her in their room just as she was getting dressed. She straightened the strap of her pink sundress and straightened the butterfly pin in her hair and waited for him to get cleaned up before they went together to the Elder’s quarters. 

Dinner was a brahmin steak pie, and Ellen sat back with a beer to watch as Danse and Arthur faced off over the chess board. She sat at the table with them and watched as they played, comparing and contrasting the two of them. 

Arthur was tall and broad, although not as big as Danse. Somehow, while he strode about the Citadel, he seemed bigger than just about anyone. He kept his hair and beard neatly trimmed, and had a tendency to stand and even sit ramrod straight. He had a perpetual frown on his face, although that was partly due to his scar, and his sharp blue eyes and commanding stance caused everyone to obey him without question. 

Danse took his responsibilities seriously as well, and although he was slightly less imposing in personality, he still instilled obedience and loyalty in those beneath him. Most people thought he was hard and a little stiff, but he valued the Brotherhood chain of command as much as Arthur did, and was always conscious of his duty and position with his subordinates. 

They both let down their guard in private, though, their posture relaxed and their tone easy as they played, occasionally taunting each other and laughing. 

Danse was staring at the board, contemplating his move, when Ellen took a sip and leaned back in her chair, lifting one foot to rest it on Danse’s lap under the table. He wrapped his fingers around her ankle absentmindedly. She looked at Arthur. He was watching the board as well, his chin resting in his hand, but as she watched, he looked up at Danse, staring at him with an inscrutable look on his face for a few moments before turning his attention back to the game. 

After a moment, she lifted her other foot experimentally and placed it in Arthur’s lap. His eyes widened slightly but he gave no other reaction for what seemed like an eternity, until finally she felt his hand glide up her shin, halfway to her knee. 

Her eyes closed and she took a breath as two hands gently stroked each leg, warming her up right to her core. 

By the time the game ended in a draw, Ellen’s skin felt tight and her nipples were poking at the fabric of her dress. She fidgeted a little in her chair, the heat between her legs making her feel unsettled. She finished her beer and stood, making her way to the sofa. She needed to cool down. 

Arthur stood as well, and Ellen thought he was going to start making sounds about it being late, but instead he sat beside her on the couch, resting his arm along the back without touching her. Danse’s movements were casual, but she could tell he was tense as he joined them. He sat on the other end of the couch from Arthur, leaning back a little with his ankle resting on his knee, his beer bottle dangling from his fingers. 

His long leg stretched out and he brushed it against her calf, chatting to Arthur about something that had happened the other day. Meanwhile, her skin prickled in pleasure as she felt Arthur’s   
hand slide down the back of the couch and his fingertips graze her neck. 

Without thinking, she leaned into his touch and closed her eyes, half listening to the men talking. 

Danse laughed at something Arthur said and shifted, sitting up and leaning forward a little. His hand came to rest on her thigh and he stroked it gently. She looked up at him, but his attention wasn’t on her at all. He was focused on his discussion with Arthur.

Her body was thrumming with need, her senses heightening with every lazy stroke of Danse’s hand on her thigh, Arthur’s fingers on her neck. 

“I find that if you use a three gauge wire in the leg servos you get a much quicker… response...time…” Danse trailed off as Ellen took his hand and slid it higher between her legs and underneath her dress. His eyes shot to hers and she smiled at him and licked her lips. She turned to Arthur, who was looking between the two of them, his blue eyes dark. 

“Ellen,” he whispered. He leaned towards her, still hesitant. She reached up and nudged the strap of her sundress so it fell down her arm before closing her eyes and tilting her head in order to bare her neck to him. She sighed when she felt his lips brush against the sensitive skin of her throat, moving her leg slightly to give Danse more access.

He obliged, sliding his hand higher and giving her inner thigh a squeeze. She opened her eyes to look at him. He was watching her carefully, and when she bit her lip he leaned in, kissing her gently once and then leaning back briefly before coming back again, his lips more insistent this time. 

After a moment, she pulled away and turned to Arthur. She didn’t even have a chance to say anything before his mouth was on hers, his tongue nudging her lips open. Danse took the opportunity to pull the other strap over her shoulder and further, baring her breast for only a moment before covering it with his mouth. Meanwhile, his other hand had completed its journey up the inside of her thigh, and was stroking her gently overtop of her panties. His fingers, slightly rough from work, located her clit with the ease of long familiarity, and she dropped her legs open with a gasp. 

He kissed his way up to her ear and whispered softly, “Do you like this?” She nodded, and she could feel his smile against her cheek. “You’re so wet,” he murmured. “Arthur, she’s so wet.”

It was clearly an invitation, and not one that Arthur was willing to turn down. Danse retreated as Arthur’s hand slipped between her legs, rubbing her briefly through her panties before pushing them aside and sliding through her slick folds. “So wet,” he said as Danse returned to her nipple, pulling her dress down with his now unoccupied hand. 

Ellen didn’t know what to do at first, merely clenching her hands uselessly in her dress, but then Arthur shifted slightly closer, so she ran her hand down his chest to cup him through his pants. Danse, upon seeing this, inched closer as well, undoing his own pants so she could slide her hand inside. 

Her fingers wrapped around Danse’s cock, while her other hand stroked Arthur through his pants, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to touch them both at once. She had thought about this so much, but she hadn’t realized how much she’d _needed_ it until now. 

She reached over to open Arthur’s pants and free his cock. Danse let out a long hiss, but didn’t say anything else. 

Once she had Arthur’s cock in hand, she turned to Danse. He kissed her as she wrapped her fingers around him the way she knew he liked, and she stroked them both in unison as they took turns kissing her deeply. 

Danse pushed her dress up, so the whole thing was bunched around her waist. She lifted her ass a bit and he started to pull her underwear off, pausing a moment to let Arthur remove his fingers from her pussy and assist. Once her panties were tossed aside, he pulled her dress off her over her head so she was completely bare. 

Arthur licked his fingers clean before he bent his head and started sucking at her nipple. Meanwhile, his hand went back between her legs, circling her clit gently and teasing her by slipping just the tip of his finger inside her. Danse pushed her legs open wider, sitting up so he could get a better view. In the process, he moved out of her reach, so she focused her attention on Arthur, squeezing his shaft and using her thumb to spread the fluid that seeped from him around the head of his cock.

She buried her nose in his hair. It was fine and silky soft, different from Danse’s coarse but luxuriant hair. He growled a little, and she could hear Danse’s breathing pick up next to her. She looked over at him and he was leaning back and watching them, his cock in hand.

Arthur switched to her other breast, sucking hard and pushing his finger into her all the way. She moaned and arched into his hand. It was good, but not quite enough. She grabbed Arthur’s hair and pushed him downwards. She wanted to feel his mouth on her, his beard rubbing between her legs. 

Arthur obliged. He slid off the couch and moved between her thighs, sliding her forward and picking her legs up to place them on his shoulders. She caught his eye and he grinned up at her, before bending to his task.

“Oh, yes,” Danse said. He was watching Arthur intently, his mouth slack as he jerked himself faster. Arthur glanced at Danse for a second before closing his eyes and lapping at her harder, working his tongue into her slit and licking upwards to her clit. 

He cupped her ass before sliding a finger into her. He brushed up against something inside her that made her buck involuntarily, letting out a moan. 

“That’s right,” Danse muttered. “Make her come.” The deep growl of his voice was the final straw, and she came right then and there, arching her back and keening. Arthur pushed two fingers into her, hard, and held still, giving her a chance to come down a bit, before he pulled his hand free and licked his fingers clean.

“I love how she looks when she comes, don’t you?” Danse asked.

“Oh yeah,” Arthur replied, pressing a kiss to her belly before sitting up. He looked up at Danse. 

“Do you… uh…?”

“I want to watch.” Danse said. “I want to watch you together, if that’s okay.”

Arthur looked at Ellen, who smiled at him weakly. She nodded. “He likes to watch. If you want to, Arthur…”

Arthur climbed up on top of her and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. “Yeah, I do,” he said, before reaching between them and guiding himself inside her.

He was still wearing a shirt, so Ellen reached up to tug it off over his head. As soon as he was free, she wrapped her legs high around his waist and he kissed her. She stroked his back and shoulders, clinging to his sweat-damp skin as he fucked her, slowly at first, then faster. 

He came quickly - faster than he had since that first night - pulling out at the last minute to finish on her belly, rubbing his cock in his cum and smearing it a bit. Danse groaned and surged to his knees, his hand flying as he spurted his release onto her breasts. 

Danse was still catching his breath when Arthur got to his feet. “Better clean up,” he muttered, heading straight into the bathroom. 

Ellen glanced at Danse before following Arthur into the bathroom. She washed up before turning to Arthur, who had donned a white bathrobe. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"That was a bit weird, don't you think?"

"Arthur, there's more than one kind of relationship in this world. As long as everyone is honest and consenting, there's no reason people shouldn't do what they like. There's nothing wrong with it. But if you are uncomfortable, I understand and-"

"No! No, it's not that. It's just that… I… Danse... I don't know. Maybe I just need time to think."

"Maybe we should talk, too. All of us." Ellen said. Arthur sighed and she added, "but maybe not tonight. It's late and this has been a lot to take in. Maybe we should all take a few days to think about things and maybe we can discuss it next time we come."

Ellen stepped up to Arthur and wrapped her arms around his waist. He held her close and they stood that way for a long time, before she learned back and looked up at him. "I want you to know that this isn't like, a common thing for us. You are very important to me, Arthur, and I know Danse feels the same way." 

Arthur smiled at her. The furrow in his brow eased and he smiled briefly before hugging her again and letting her go. 

Danse had gotten dressed while they were in the bathroom, and he handed Ellen her dress. She pulled it on over her head and said, "are you ready to go?"

He opened his mouth to protest but closed it again when she shook her head slightly. "Yeah, I think so," he said, and they quickly gathered their things and made their way to the door. Arthur stood nearby, frowning. 

Ellen looked at him for a moment, then handed her things to Danse and went over to Arthur and kissed him lightly on the cheek. 

"We'll see you soon," she told him. He smiled at her, and she turned to leave, going ahead as Danse held the door for her.

"Is Arthur okay?" Danse asked as they walked together down the corridor. 

"Yeah, I think so. But I think we are all going to have to have a talk next time we get the chance.”

Unfortunately for all of them, that chance would never come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is just terrible and I apologize for it. It's so bad honestly. Also I am laughing at it.


	10. Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The results of Arthur's decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in posting this chapter, I try to do it in the mornings but last weekend was a long weekend and I thought it was Tuesday today.

The ambush came within sight of the Jefferson Memorial.

They had only been walking a short time when the first blasts of laser fire came, blue shots from beneath what seemed to be a pile of rubble. Knight Hockley was the first to go down, guarding the pack brahmin. He took a shot to the leg, which brought him to his knees, but before he could rise, a pulse grenade sailed through the air and landed nearby. Trapped between the brahmin and the grenade, he had nowhere to go. 

Murdoch was next. He was leading the other brahmin, and he dropped the lead and pulled his weapon, heading towards the source of the fire, but a shot from above smashed the visor on his helmet. Blinded, he took it off, and the next shot, directly to his head, brought him down. 

Danse was leading the party, and Ellen brought up the rear. With two of the three knights gone, their best chance was to fall back and regroup, but before she could shout the order, Danse did.

Ellen began backing up, her eyes on the pile of concrete to her right. She fired at the first synth to emerge, a single robotic form, blasting it to bits. The second met the same fate, and she was aiming at the third, trying to keep Danse covered so he could catch up, when the leather-clad form of the courser appeared. 

In front of her eyes, he disappeared, replaced by a shimmer she could barely track. She fired, but missed. She tried to keep her sights on it, but more synths were coming. Knight Lovejoy ran past her, but she kept firing, trying to spot the courser.

Suddenly, she saw it, directly behind Danse. She couldn’t fire, it was too close. She might hit him instead. She shouted a warning, but it was too late. The courser reappeared, slapped something onto the back of Danse’s armour, then rolled away. Ellen took two steps towards him, then there was a flash of blue and the smell of sulphur and she was flying through the air, over the stone wall, and onto her back. 

Stunned, she lay there for a moment, before staggering to her feet, her armour damaged and cumbersome. The second explosion hit her in the back and head, flinging her forward and knocking her helmet free, and the last thing she saw before everything went black was a power armour arm landing in front of her, the Paladin insignia splattered with blood.

* * *

When her eyes blinked open, it was like fire and knives directly into her brain, so she shut them again immediately. 

The pain in her head was unbearable, and she moaned, but the vibration of her own voice made it worse, so the sound trailed off into a whimper. 

“Shh, don’t move,” the voice came from beside her. She thought it might be Haylen, but thinking hurt. There was a prick in her arm, then it all went black again.

* * *

The next time she cracked her eyes open, cautiously, the lights were dim and it was quiet. She blinked and looked around. It took her a moment to realize she was in the Citadel med bay. Knight-Captain Cade stood nearby, writing on a clipboard. She tried to speak, but just a whimper came out. He heard it, turning to face her.

“Good morning. I thought you would wake up today sometime.”

“What happened?” Ellen rasped out.

“You were injured in an explosion on the way to the citadel a week ago. Your skull was fractured. It’s about seventy percent healed. It will be at least a week before you can move around and we can assess any permanent damage, although I don’t expect you will suffer much beyond headaches for a while.Your wrist was broken as well, but we’ve already fixed that. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

“Danse-”

“You still need rest. Someone will talk to you soon.” He tapped a needle and put something in her IV and she dozed off.

* * *

She woke up several times over the few days, although never for long. Arthur visited a few times, but aside from asking her how she was, he wouldn’t talk to her. Neither would anyone else, and not knowing how or where he was was making her increasingly agitated.

Finally, she had had enough. “Where is Danse,” she demanded the next time Arthur came in. 

He looked at Cade, who sighed and nodded. 

Arthur turned back to her and took her hand. “He didn’t make it.”

Ellen tried to sit up. “He was right behind me. He…” she closed her eyes and remembered the arm of his armour landing in front of her. 

“Don’t get up. His armour was found. The core was detonated. There was… a lot of blood.”

“I want to see him.”

“We weren’t able to recover-”

“He wasn’t in his armour? You don’t have a body?”

“There’s no way he could have survived, Ellen.”

“If you don’t have a body, he’s missing, not dead.” Ellen was crying. She tried to get up again.  
Arthur looked at Cade, who stepped closer. “You need to calm down, Paladin, or I will need to sedate you again, and it will hinder your healing,” the doctor said. 

Arthur squeezed her hand. “Ellen, you have to trust me. There’s no way he could have survived. I swear to you.”

She looked at him, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the pain in his expression, that he wasn’t lying to her. She lay back down and looked at the ceiling, then pulled her hand from his and turned away.

* * *

Ellen didn’t say much while she recovered, but the thought that perhaps Danse had survived never really left her mind. She worked hard to heal, hoping ultimately she would be able to uncover the truth.

Arthur came to see her every day, sitting near her bed at first, then walking with her as she regained her mobility. He helped her dress, read to her, and sometimes fell asleep in the chair near her bed, his hand clasped with hers.

The day before she was released, he asked her if she wanted to stay with him while she continued recovering. “The doctor says it would be good for you to have someone nearby in case of trouble.”

She thought about it for a few minutes. It probably wouldn’t hurt. He could help her out, and she could always get her own quarters again when she felt better. She nodded and smiled weakly at him, and he beamed down at her. He stood eagerly, his back straight. “I’ll have someone retrieve your things,” he told her, then turned sharply and strode out the door before she could reply.

* * *

He walked her to his quarters the next day. She was tired just from the stairs, so she laid down on the bed. He left her there for the afternoon, having work that needed to be done, but he told her there was someone outside the door should she need anything. 

Ellen slept most of the afternoon, only awakening when Arthur came in around seven, followed by a squire carrying food. He helped her up and they sat down together to eat.

“We have planned a memorial. But we wanted to wait until you were well enough to come,” Arthur told her. “I think we can schedule it for the day after tomorrow.”

Ellen stared at her food. She ground her teeth, but nodded. 

After supper, she showered carefully then made her way back to bed. Arthur looked at her, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I can sleep on the couch if you like.”

“I’d rather not be alone,” she said, waiting while he got ready, and climbed in beside her. He slid his arm around her and she curled into him. A tear slipped down her nose and dripped onto his arm. She blinked up at him when he wiped it away with a finger. His eyes were damp as well. 

He held her tightly until they fell asleep.

* * *

Ellen clung tightly to Danse. He was always so warm to the touch but now he was cold. She clung to him, shook him, cried his name, and he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

“Ellen. It’s okay.” 

“Danse…” she said again, opening her eyes. It was Arthur who held her face in his hands. She was in his room. 

“It’s a dream,” he told her. 

She relaxed a little, realizing where she was, trying to find more heat from his body.

Just a dream.

* * *

Ellen stood stoically through the memorial for Danse and the two knights. Their bodies, unlike Danse’s, had been recovered, and their cremated remains were given over to their loved ones. All Ellen had was his holotag. She looked at it, glowing in her hand. It was a copy. She didn’t even have his real holotags. She closed her fingers around it and straightened her back.

Cade cleared her for light duty two weeks later. By then, she was already getting restless. She offered to request single quarters, but Arthur asked her to stay, and she really didn’t want to be alone. “I think I will assign someone else to the water purifier anyway. I was thinking of putting you on a training rotation.”

“I want to go get the rest of our… my things.”

“I understand,” Arthur replied. “I’ll assign a squad to escort you. A large one.”

There were ten of them who set out from the Citadel later that week. Ellen wore combat armour, her power armour still not having been repaired. It was a few hours to walk the whole distance, and she slowed when they reached the spot the ambush had occurred. There were blast marks on the road in several spots, and a hole was blasted through the stone wall where the explosion that had knocked her out had occurred. 

Her eyes followed the blast patterns to the source. She had read the report. Danse’s armour exploding had been what had knocked her off her feet. It had been destroyed, most likely by a bomb placed on the fusion core. There had been a lot of blood, according to the description filed by the person who had come to retrieve the remains. The arm she had seen had not been found.

A lot of blood. She looked at the cracked pavement for any trace, but it had already been weeks, and anything that had been there was long gone. She scanned the area. There was a glint in the rubble of the stone wall, so she walked over to it and picked it up. It was a scrap of gleaming steel, polished to a brilliant shine. She ran her thumb over it. 

“You missed a spot,” she whispered.

* * *

As Ellen healed, she began taking on some training duties for the new initiates. She trained them in survival skills, basic weaponry, and tactics. Different types of enemies required different approaches, and she started spending her off time in the library and with some of the scribes. She wanted to learn better about all enemy types, but she was particularly interested in synths. 

Meanwhile, work on the Prydwen ramped up, as the project neared completion. Arthur traveled more and more between the Prydwen and the Citadel, and they seemed to see each other less and less. She spent many nights alone in his quarters, worried, questioning his security despite the dropoff in the number of synth attacks recently. To keep her mind occupied, she began spending even more of her free time in the archives.

She was sitting at a terminal one evening when Scribe Haylen sat down next to her. 

"Hey," Ellen said.

"Burning the midnight oil?" Haylen asked.

"Just studying," Ellen replied, a little resentful at the interruption.

"Some of us were talking and-"

Ellen cut her off. "Gossiping, you mean?" She had never shed the "Lone Wanderer" reputation even after years in the Brotherhood. 

"No, El. I'm your friend. We're all your friends. We're worried."

"I'm fine," Ellen snapped, turning off the terminal. She could use Arthur's just as easily, and with more privacy as well. She stood up. "I am going to bed," she stated, and turned to leave.

"You can't bring him back," Haylen called out to her, but she didn't stop.

* * *

Once she was in Arthur's room - she had a hard time thinking of it as _their_ room - she changed into comfortable clothes and sat down at his terminal. 

She skipped past his personal logs, and instead opened the training archives, finding the section labeled Capital Wasteland, which contained strategic information on the various settlements and factions in the area. She skimmed through it, stopping at the section on synths.

Synths had first appeared in the Capital Wasteland prior to her even joining the Brotherhood. They had been classified into three main types, robot type, human type, and courser type. She had seen all of these types in her own clashes with them. She sighed, clicking out of the file and leaning back in her chair, rubbing her hands in her short hair. She’d looked at these files a thousand times, on the archive terminal. She didn’t know what she was looking for. There was nothing new to see. 

She went back another screen and was about to shut the terminal off when she noticed the folder for official records. Now that was something she didn’t have access to on the archive terminal. She swallowed down a twinge of guilt and opened the file.

The reports were organized so that they could be sorted by a variety of different data points, including by faction. She typed in “synth,” pulling up a list of reports of synth sightings and attacks. She scrolled through them, reading through some of them at random, seeing the names of soldiers killed, and recalling some of the faces she had known and lost over the years.

She clicked on one report that jumped out at her. Shortly after she and Danse had been posted to Project Purity, Danse’s squad had been attacked by a group of synths. They had stopped the robots easily, but the courser had escaped. She read over the report, remembering how he had come in with a small cut in his eyebrow next to the scar he already bore, and how she had teased him that he was going to be mistaken for a ghoul if he kept getting sliced up, and making him promise not to go out without his helmet any more. She smiled sadly at the memory, rubbing the scrap of armour she had placed on a chain around her neck.

She tapped the keys, going back and scrolling further through the list, not reading any more, but just looking at the dates as they slid up the screen, more and more of them. She sat back in her chair. So many, especially the last few years. So many. She frowned, looking at the screen. scrolling back up again, looking more closely at the dates and locations. 

Prior to that attack on Danse, there had been one or two synth attacks per month, in various locations, but after that was when there was a sharp uptick in attacks, and they were almost entirely focused on Project Purity and the road to the Citadel. Danse himself had been attacked almost every time he stepped outside. Once she got to the attack on her and Danse, the attacks dropped off. They did not taper off - they stopped immediately.

Ellen shut the terminal off, then made her way to bed. There was something going on here, and she’d have to think about it more. Maybe do some more research. She wrapped herself in the blankets and lay awake for a long time, stroking the piece of metal around her neck, until she finally drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the AU part comes in. From here on, the plot significantly deviates from Endgame.


	11. Fractures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the ambush, fractures appear in Arthur and Ellen’s relationship.

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep when Arthur came in. He was clearly trying to keep from waking her up, but as he shuffled around, putting away his things and showering, she gradually woke up, and was fully awake by the time he slid into the bed next to her, dressed in shorts and an undershirt. 

“Hey,” she said, rolling into him and wrapping her arms around him. “I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow afternoon.

“I missed you and I wanted to come back early. How are you feeling?”

Arthur had been treating her with nothing but concern and attentiveness since she had been injured, caring for her and even sleeping with her while she healed, his touch limited to nothing more than a chaste kiss from time to time.

Ellen crept closer, holding him more tightly. It seemed like they were always busy and she had barely seen him lately. “I missed you, too,” she whispered. “I feel fine. My head hasn’t hurt at all the last few days. How are you?” She ran her hand up to his chest and back down again to his belly.

Arthur let out a hiss, but he didn’t move. “Tired,” he said.

“How tired?” Ellen asked, slipping her hand under his shirt and brushing her fingertips lightly through the hair on his belly. 

“Not too tired, I think.” 

Ellen crept up until her face was close to his. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling the rough bump of his scar beneath her lips. She kissed him again, at the corner of his mouth, then when he finally turned, she captured his lips with hers.

“I wanted to wait until you were ready,” Arthur murmured.

She took his hand in hers and brought it to her chest, guiding it under her shirt to her breast. He kissed her more fully, turning towards her and sliding a thick thigh between her legs, pressing it up into her junction. She swiveled her hips, rocking against him, the delicious friction of his leg ramping up the tension in her body. 

He nibbled at her ear, sending shivers down her spine. His breath was heavy, a low rumble emanating from his chest that sounded almost like a purr. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, but his shirt was in the way. 

He sat up so she could pull the shirt off over his head before leaning over to turn the lamp on. She looked at him in the golden light of the lamp, his broad chest, marked with four puncture scars from the deathclaw that had marred his face, dark chest hair trailing down to vanish in his shorts. 

She tugged her own top off over her head, smiling at the heated appreciation in Arthur’s blue eyes. He kneeled between her legs and ran his hands down her sides, spanning her waist for a moment before skimming her hips, removing her underwear at the same time. He rested her ankles on his shoulders and began kissing his way up the inside of her calf and thigh to her core.

His breath was hot and his beard soft as he made his way to her very centre, spreading her open with his thumbs before slowly licking her, his tongue laving circles around her outer lips and burrowing between to taste her clit.

He watched her as he worked, his eyes on her, responding to her every reaction. Her body tensed, her muscles coiled like a spring, like a bomb about to go off, but he stopped, pulling back and biting at her inner thighs until the pressure eased and she lay back on the bed, frustrated.

He started again, inserting a finger this time and crooking it, sending her higher faster. She keened and grabbed at his hair but he stopped again, waiting until she was bucking against him in frustrated desperation before sliding his finger back inside and circling her clit with his thumb.

“Arthur, you’re killing me,” she managed to gasp the next time he paused, and he made a sound something between a laugh and a growl as he dived back in, licking at her with agonizingly slow movements as he inched his finger closer to her ass.

He licked his finger and circled her hole gently, his mouth and tongue still on her clit. 

“Put it in,” she whimpered, and he obliged, slipping the tip of his finger into her ass while he plunged another into her dripping pussy, his mouth on her clit the whole time, as she finally shattered, bucking wildly as she tried to get closer and away at the same time, her back arching up off the bed and her legs clamped tightly around him as they rode out her climax together.

When her orgasm began to taper off and her back regained contact with the sheets, he got to his knees and wrapped his hands around her thighs, dragging her ass up onto his lap while leaving her head and shoulders on the bed. He took himself in hand and pressed the head of his cock to her pussy, rubbing it through the slick before pushing inside. 

The last shuddering twitches of her orgasm intensified with his cock inside her. She arched her back to get him deeper and he obliged, pulling her hard against him and rising a little on each thrust, filling her and withdrawing almost completely only to do it all over again. 

Her hands clenched and pulled in the bedsheets, trying to find purchase to drag herself closer, to take more of him, until finally, he swore, his fingers digging into her thighs and his cock throbbing inside her as he came.

He kept moving, slower now, and she could feel the wetness of their combined fluids, the thick sound of them as he slid into her. She reached between her legs and touched her clit just for a moment before she was coming again, her gasps and Arthur’s deep groans mingling in the quiet room.

After they cleaned up, Ellen lay in Arthur’s arms, his fingers trailed in her hair, cropped short again after her injury, and down to her shoulder. The soft thud of his heart against her ear lulled her to sleep, and the last thing she heard before she fell asleep was a softly spoken, “I love you.”

* * *

The next day, Ellen went with Arthur to the mess hall for breakfast. When they were seated, Ellen mentioned what she had read the evening before about the pattern in synth attacks. 

“I was thinking that they were maybe after something, but now they got it. But it almost seems like they were targeting Danse specifically.”

“Ellen, that doesn’t even make sense… wait… what were you reading?”

“The mission reports.”

“Those were only accessible on my terminal, and the one in the board room, which is locked  
and under guard.”

“I didn’t want to stay in the library. Haylen-”

“Scribe Haylen has already expressed her concerns to me. I hadn’t brought it up because I thought it was your way of working through things, and I wanted to give you time, but I can’t let you just use the terminal in my quarters.”

“Arthur, I didn’t read any of your personal logs.” She didn’t understand why he was so angry.

“That’s not the point. The point is that my terminal has sensitive data that you are not authorized for. It’s a breach of my trust.” He looked at her. His face was hard, but as she blinked at him, his expression softened slightly. “I understand it’s been hard for you. It’s been hard for me too. But I can’t make exceptions because of our personal relationship. I’m going to lock that terminal, and I will let this go for now, but any further infractions will require disciplinary actions.”

Ellen looked at him, blinking to hold back tears, but she nodded. This was the Elder she was speaking to, not Arthur, and she needed to remember that. “Yes, Sir,” she said, quietly.

“We can discuss this later, in private,” Arthur said, rising. Ellen nodded, fighting the urge to salute him. She didn’t watch him as he walked away.

* * *

Ellen went through her duties that day in a bit of a fog, preoccupied with what she had read, but also unsettled by her conversation with Arthur. She had known she was breaking the rules looking on his terminal, but she still had been taken aback by his response. It wasn’t like she was looking at operational plans or anything. The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she got. What she was researching was important, and he hadn’t even responded to the information she’d given him.

By the time she made it back to their quarters that evening, she was in a foul mood, snapping at everyone who tried to talk to her. She let herself in to find Arthur already there, reading papers at his desk. She walked past him and went into the bathroom. 

She waited as long as she could before exiting. Arthur had put away his papers by that point and was standing by the bookshelf, looking at the back of a book. “Hey,” he said, setting the book down. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry,” she told him, stripping off her jumpsuit and quickly changing into jeans and a t-shirt. 

“Oh. Well I was hoping we could eat together, so I waited. He crossed the room and reached for her, but she ducked out of his arms and grabbed her brush, heading back into the bathroom. Arthur followed. 

“Well, do you want to-”

“I just want to go to the library, Arthur.” She thought about telling him she would go sleep in the barracks with the other soldiers, but that was too petty even for her bad mood. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said, and brushed past him and out the door. 

Ellen stayed in the archives until well past midnight, She slipped into the room and into bed without waking him, although his arm came around her and he pulled her close. She tensed up, but when he didn’t wake, she relaxed and went to sleep.

When she woke up, Arthur was getting some things in a bag. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk,” he said. “Listen. The Prydwen is about to launch, probably in a week or so. I’ll be back before then, and I want you to come with me to see her float.” 

Ellen looked up at him. He looked so hopeful, she suddenly felt bad about how she’d been behaving. She rose up on her toes and kissed him. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said.  
Arthur beamed, wrapping his arms around her in a quick hug before leaning back. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, then straightened, his eyes searching hers. His smile faded “While I’m gone, Ellen…” he paused. “Ellen, I think you should see someone. Like to talk to. A medic or something.”

Ellen pulled out of his arms and looked down at her feet. She frowned. She didn’t need to see anyone. She needed answers, not therapy. But he didn’t need to know that. She smiled up at him weakly. “I’ll try,” she said. 

“Thank you.” Arthur replied. He picked up his bag and turned to go, stopping at the doorway. “I love you,” he said. 

“I love you too,” Ellen replied.

* * *

Later that evening, Ellen sat in front of Arthur’s terminal. He had indeed set a lock on it, but she had never let a thing like a password stop her before, and she wasn’t about to now, either. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

She skipped to the list of field reports and decided to start at the beginning. To her surprise, the first report was about her, although she hadn’t written it. It was written by Sarah Lyons, based off information Ellen had given her before she had even joined the Brotherhood. The incident was nearly ten years ago. She had met a man in Rivet City while she was looking for her father. He was searching for an escaped synth. Ellen remembered telling Sarah that, but that was all she had known. 

According to the report, at a later date, Sarah Lyons had tracked down the escaped android, concerned it could be a threat to the Capital Wasteland and the Brotherhood. _No kidding,_ Ellen thought as she continued reading. After identifying the synth, she reported back to the Brotherhood. 

However, unbeknownst to her, Elder Lyons sent Paladin Shaw, who later became Elder, to dispose of the synth, who was apparently masquerading as the head of Rivet City security.  
Ellen leaned back in her chair, absently stroking the piece of metal on the chain around her neck. Harkness? Harkness was a synth? She had always wondered what had happened to him. He had just vanished one day. She had only known him in passing, but he had seemed nice. Not like a killer at all. 

She leaned forward, reading on. After disposing of the synth, Shaw went on to question the man who was searching for it, before ensuring he and his courser companion ‘disappeared.’ According to the intel he gathered, the synths came from a facility in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts called the ‘Institute.’

Ellen already knew the synths came from the Commonwealth. A recon team had vanished there a few years earlier. She realized at that point that she would not find any more answers here. She would have to go to the Commonwealth for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually chapter 11 and part of 12, so now I need to restructure the stuff that happens afterwards a little. Also I haven't been working on this as much as I had expected once I started posting. So who knows what the next few weeks will bring. There is a good cushion though, so, chapters should keep flowing for a while yet anyway. 
> 
> Also, we are entering territory that wasn't really beta read, so there may be errors. Please let me know if you see anything, particularly really bad stuff like dangling, half-finished sentences.


	12. Rise and Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen makes some impulsive choices.

A week later, Ellen stood next to Arthur Maxson as the Prydwen rose into the air for the first time. She sat next to him in the vertibird afterwards and walked beside him as they boarded the airship for the first time, looking around curiously at the new ship and listening to Knight Captain Kells as he outlined its features and technology.

After the tour was over, she sat with Arthur in the Elder’s quarters on the ship. Smaller than his suite at the Citadel, it was nevertheless well appointed, with an ensuite, desk, table, and a bed. 

“You’ll be able to come along with me wherever I go,” Arthur smiled. 

Ellen smiled back as well, taking a sip from her drink and peeking absently into the empty desk drawer. “Where is the mighty Prydwen going first?” she asked. 

“Well, it needs a few months of workups, but the west coast Elders and I have agreed that Boston is the most likely area for expansion.

Ellen’s ears perked up. 

Arthur took his coat off with a sigh, draping it over the bed before sitting down and crossing his legs. He looked around, pleased, and took a sip of his drink. “It wasn’t my first choice, but I was outnumbered. But there will be other places after that.” He smiled at Ellen. “I hope you will want to come see them with me. I was thinking-”

Before he could finish, Ellen interrupted. “You don’t want to go there?”

“I’m not sure what it would accomplish. The synth attacks have died down, and I think the resource possibilities in West Virginia-”

Ellen stood up. “Don’t you want to know what happened to Danse? Don’t you care at all?”

Arthur rose as well. “Ellen, he’s gone. We can’t change that. I know you miss him, I know how much you loved him. I miss him too. I lo--” He rubbed his hands over his face, then continued. 

“Ellen, he was my best friend. You don’t understand. My best friend, my mentor. Aside from you, he was the person I cared about the most in this world. And it kills me that he’s not beside me to see this… this… wonder. This marvel. He would have loved it, Ellen, and he’s not here.” He slammed his hand down on the table, his breathing heavy. His head hung for a moment, then he looked at her, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“He’s gone, Ellen. As much as I might wish for it, he’s not coming back, and we need to learn to keep going.” He stepped in front of her and took her hands in his. “He’s gone, but I’m still here. And I don’t want to be alone.”

She looked up at him. He was asking so much, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to give up on Danse just yet. Her hand moved up of its own accord to wrap around the piece of metal that lay around her neck. Arthur’s eyes followed the movement of her hand, and she saw the brief flare of disappointment in his eyes before he pulled her into his arms and held her there. 

“We can talk about it later,” he whispered into her hair. She nodded into his chest and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

* * *

The following afternoon, the higher up members of the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel, including Paladin MacKay, held a meeting. They reviewed the successful launch of the Prydwen, laid out a roadmap for requisitioning and staffing the airship and support vertibirds, and discussed a general timeline for the advance into the Commonwealth. 

“I suggest a recon squad go ahead to the area, to scout out the region and provide advance intel.” Henry Casdin, Sentinel of the Capital Wasteland, spoke up. There was a murmur of agreement.

Elder Maxson frowned. “The last mission sent there vanished without a word. It’s an incredibly risky mission. Although I agree, I think we should make sure that the people sent there are all volunteers. I don’t want anyone ordered against their will to such a dangerous mission.”

The group agreed again. 

Casdin spoke up. “We have most of the Paladins here, if you all want to think it over and if anyone-”

Ellen interrupted before he could finish. “I’ll go,” she declared. Her heart was racing. It was a spur of the moment decision, but she would be able to do some research on her own without Arthur hovering over her every minute. 

As though he had read her mind, Arthur glared at her from across the table. Before he had a chance to speak, however, Casdin spoke up. “Excellent. Do we have any other volunteers?”  
There was a tense silence in the room as everyone looked at the various paladins seated around the table. Nobody spoke up.

“Excellent. Let’s carry on with the agenda, then, shall we?”

Ellen barely dared to glance at Arthur for the rest of the meeting. Although his outward demeanor was calm, and he participated appropriately in the remainder of the discussion, she could see in the set of his shoulders and the way his jaw worked when he wasn’t speaking that he was absolutely infuriated with her. She glanced at the door, contemplating whether or not she would be able to escape without talking to him when the meeting was over, but ultimately she realized it was futile. 

When the meeting finally finished, she stayed in her seat. Arthur rose, speaking with several people as they filed out, until in the end it was just the two of them in the room. Ellen looked at her folded hands on the table and waited for him to speak.

Finally he broke the silence.

“What were you thinking, El? You didn’t even talk to me about it first.”

She kept her mouth shut. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she even _could_ say anything that he would understand.

Arthur turned her chair around so she was facing him, but she put her hands in her lap and refused to look at him. She was angry at him. At him and at the whole world. But she also felt guilty, knowing she was hurting him, that he had every right to be angry. 

“You didn’t even talk to me first. You just put your name out there in front of everyone so I couldn’t even talk you out of it, or find someone else, or…” he ran his hands through his hair in frustration and sat down in the next chair.

“Ellen, what if something happens to you?” He took her hand in his.

She looked at him, saw the pain on his face. She could tell he was hurting, she was hurting him. But she needed to do this. And, she was beginning to realize, she needed to do this alone. 

She pulled her hand out of his. 

“I think it would be best if I had my own quarters until I leave,” she said, quietly. 

“No, Ellen, don’t do this.” He reached for her hand again but she pulled away and stood up. 

“I’m sorry, Arthur. But maybe you would be happier… better off… with someone who can love you how you deserve.” 

She turned away and walked out the door before he could say another word.

* * *

Ellen made her way outside, fighting back tears, and wondering if she had made a mistake. She didn’t even have anywhere to go because she was sharing a room with Arthur. 

The door opened behind her and she turned around to see Arthur step outside. She swiped away her tears and waited as he approached. He stopped in front of her and folded his arms. She looked at him. He’d never seemed so imposing before.

“The vertibird is here to take us home. It’s too late to arrange quarters for you, so I will sleep on the couch. Tomorrow I will have quarters found for you until you leave on your mission. Is that acceptable?”

Ellen nodded. 

“Excellent , Paladin.” 

Her title burned her to the core.


	13. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen tries to mend fences with Arthur while she prepares for her recon mission to the Commonwealth.

The ensuing weeks were busy as the recon team was selected and equipped, and plans laid out. The Prydwen was three months out from departing, and the goal was to have Ellen’s team, codenamed Gladius, in place for a month or so prior to the Prydwen’s arrival. 

Ellen dealt with the Proctors as much as possible, but she still had to report to Arthur frequently, and the encounters were always tense. Arthur was composed, professional. He’d had an armoured leather coat made, which he wore at all times. She’d lifted it before. It was heavy and thick, and when combined with his wide-footed stance and stern demeanor, gave off the impression of someone who was in command of everything and everyone.

Before when he would look at her, his face would soften slightly, his shoulders would ease almost imperceptibly. But now his gaze was hard, his lips tight. 

She wanted to reach for him. To touch his face, and see the man she loved looking back at her. 

She missed him. She missed him terribly. She’d not only lost a partner, she’d lost a friend.

She tried one day to talk to him, hoping she could mend their relationship somewhat. She waited until the end of a meeting and then stopped him before he could leave. “Arthur, can I talk to you?”

He nodded, and they waited until everyone filed out before turning to her.

“Arthur, I was thinking, it’s been a long time-”

He cut her off.

“I am the Elder, Paladin, and you will address me as such. Particularly when we are around my subordinates. Is that clear?”

Ellen swallowed. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“Excellent. Now if there is nothing further?”

She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of affection at all, but there was none.

“No, Sir.”

“You’re dismissed,” He said, and she had no choice but to leave.

* * *

Ellen lay in her bunk later that night. The cold seeped into her bones and she pulled her blanket higher, trying to stay warm. She couldn’t sleep, replaying the scene from earlier over and over in her head, rethinking the day they had split up, wondering if there was some way she could have done things differently. 

It hurt, in some ways worse than losing Danse and Chetan had hurt, because she could see him every day, but the person she knew inside was nowhere to be found.

The next day she made her way to the mess hall, and when she entered, her stomach dropped. He was sitting at a table with a scribe she barely knew. She stood in line and watched them out of the corner of her eye. 

He smiled at her. He smiled at the scribe, and it was like a knife to the gut.

She set her tray down and left.

* * *

With less than a week remaining until the mission departed, there was little time to do anything more than work. Scribe Haylen had joined Gladius as field medic, and they spent a lot of time together as they mapped out their route and pored over old maps of Boston. At first, she had been hesitant to choose Haylen for the team, but ultimately she had been happy to have a friend with her.

The day before they were to leave, there was a get together in the mess, as the team said goodbye to their Brothers and Sisters. The Elder made an appearance, the scribe from earlier hovering nearby. He didn’t look at the scribe, or at Ellen, but he spoke with every other member of Gladius in turn, before standing in the corner, his arms folded, speaking to Knight Captain Kells.

Haylen sat down next to Ellen with a laugh and set a drink down in front of her. “Here. Try to have a little fun at least,” she said.

Ellen took a small sip and set it back down, her eyes following Arthur as he took his leave and departed. He knew the morale of the Brotherhood was better when they were able to socialize from time to time without him hovering over them, so he normally left these sorts of events early.

Once he was gone, she turned to Haylen, realizing the scribe had been talking to her this whole time.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, you are the saddest person I’ve ever seen in my life. This is supposed to be a party. We’re going on an adventure.”

“Hmm.” Ellen replied, fingering the lip of her glass.

Haylen sighed. “We’re also here to say goodbye. We might not make it back. Maybe you should go talk to him.”

Ellen looked at Haylen, who reached over and squeezed her hand.

“The worst that will happen is he’ll tell you to go away, right?”

Haylen was right. She couldn’t leave things like this. She stood up, and taking a swig from her drink for courage, said goodnight and headed to the Elder’s suite.

* * *

The knight at the end of the hall ignored her as he struck a lit a cigarette, the acrid sulphur smell of the match making her nose twitch. She walked past him and down the hall, but she hesitated a moment before knocking. She had no idea what she was going to say. She only knew that she couldn’t head to the Commonwealth with their relationship in tatters. 

It was now or never. She took a deep breath and knocked. 

He opened the door. She looked up at him. He scowled down at her, and it made her feel so small. She took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m leaving tomorrow, and in case anything happens…” she trailed off.

Arthur sighed and stepped back, opening the door to let her in. 

“Do you want a drink?” he asked.

“No thanks.”

Arthur leaned on the table and folded his arms over his chest, watching her. 

“Did you just come to say goodbye?” he finally asked.

“Yes. And also, I wanted to say that I hope when I come back, that we can be friends again. Like we were before. I miss you.”

“Ellen-”

“I didn’t think this would happen, Arthur. I needed space but not like this.”

“We can’t be friends anymore, El- Paladin.”

She looked at his face, his expression was hard, his lips tight. “Why are you so cold?” she whispered.

“Cold? You think I’m cold? You _left me._ You told me to find _someone else.”_ He took a step towards her, and then another. “What am I supposed to do? Slap a smile on my face and pretend like we’re best friends and nothing else?” He stepped towards her again, and she stepped backwards, her back hitting the wall as he continued forwards until he was standing in front of her, forcing her to tip her head back to look up at him. “Let me be cold, Ellen. It’s all I’ve got left.”

“Oh, Arthur,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” She laid her hand on his cheek and his eyes darkened. He grabbed her wrist, but she didn’t try to pull away. He squeezed, almost hurting her, but she brought her other hand up to his face as well.

“I’m not cold, Ellen,” he growled, then smashed his mouth down onto hers.

She opened her mouth for him and his tongue thrust inside, his teeth biting at her as he took what he wanted. She clung to his neck and pulled him closer, her nails digging into his skin as he pressed his body into hers, crushing her against the wall. She wrapped one leg around his thigh and he grabbed it and yanked it higher, grinding against her core. 

“Tell me you want this,” he said, his voice rough with lust and anger.

“I want this,” she pulled his mouth back down to hers, and he lifted her up, her legs wrapped around his waist, and carried her to the bedroom, smashing the door open with his foot before dropping her on the bed. He stood, tearing at his clothes, his eyes locked to hers, while she scrambled to undress on the bed. 

She had removed her pants and shirt, but was still in her bra, when he finished undressing. He grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wide. He licked his fingers and shoved them between her legs, but she was already wet. He thrust his fingers into her a few times, his thumb on her clit. She clenched the sheets and threw her head back, angling her hips up to meet him. 

He pulled his hand free and grabbed his cock, spreading her juices on himself, then yanked her close and thrust inside her.

She wrapped her legs around him. He bent low over her, his mouth biting at her throat, before pulling her bra down and sucking hard on her breast. She arched her back, using her feet to push him deeper into her, feeling the muscles in his ass flex as he fucked her.

His whole body rubbed against hers, his hard muscles and the hair of his chest exciting the nerve endings in her whole body. He removed his mouth from her breast and replaced it with his hand, squeezing hard, and kissed her, his tongue in her mouth mimicking the movements of his cock.

“Aaah… Arthur…” she moaned, pulling her mouth away, gasping for breath. She was losing control. She grabbed at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair, meeting each hard stroke of his cock with an answering tip of her hips. He was hitting her in the right spot, again and again, and she could see stars in front of her vision, her whole body on fire.

“I’m coming, Oh. Please,” she whined. His hand came up under her back and around her shoulder, pulling her into him, and she finally came apart, scratching at his back and flinging her legs wide as her climax wracked her whole body. 

Arthur didn’t stop to let her ride it out. He kept going, fucking her through her orgasm, slamming into her. Her body fought him, trying to escape the overstimulation. She could feel the pressure building inside her again, quickly. It was almost painful. She bit him, trying to ground herself, but he only fucked her harder, and she came again, stars going off like missiles in her head. Her pussy spasmed again and again, and she could feel the wetness flooding from her.

Arthur stopped. Without warning he stopped moving, and a rumble like an engine rolled up from his chest, vibrating her whole body. She clamped her legs around him tightly to hold him still, the break from his unrelenting movements finally allowing her body to relax. He moaned again, flexing into her, and then she felt him as he pulsed inside her, his cock twitching and his breath heavy in her ear as he came.

He didn’t move for a long time after. She kept her legs wrapped around him and stroked his hair, the back of his neck, as he slowly relaxed. He kissed the side of her throat, and behind her ear, and she held him close, breathing in his smell and tasting the hot salt of his skin beneath her lips.

“Stay here. Please,” he whispered into her ear. “Don’t go to the Commonwealth.”

She sucked in a breath. She couldn’t. She couldn’t stay. But she didn’t answer.

That was all the answer he needed. She felt his body tense above her, and a second later he had withdrawn from her and stood, leaving her empty and cold. She watched as he bent and picked up his jumpsuit, shaking his underwear loose and pulling them on. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. 

He picked up her shirt and handed it to her. “You can clean up if you need,” he said, 

She nodded and got up, collecting the rest of her clothing and ducking into the bathroom where she quickly washed up and got dressed. She exited to find him sitting at his desk, typing on his terminal.

“Arthur-” she began.

“I won’t let this happen again, Paladin. Good night.”

She stared at his back for a long time, then turned and left.


	14. The Commonwealth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go a little differently for Recon Squad Gladius with Paladin MacKay in charge.

The day Fort Hagen came into view felt like the best day of Ellen’s life. 

Two months after leaving the Citadel in the Capital Wasteland, they finally arrived at the outskirts of Boston. It had been a hard trek. Keane had damaged the leg of his power armour early on in their voyage, slowing them down. Their radio had also been damaged, leaving them with no way to contact the Brotherhood back home. Although Haylen had gotten it working for short range transmissions, it would need a boost before it could reach the Citadel.

Ellen stopped the squad, ordering everyone to take a ten minute break. She remained standing, certain she would fall asleep if she rested. She’d been fighting exhaustion the last few weeks. It seemed every time they stopped, she dozed off, until eventually she just stayed in her armour and hoped for the best. 

Most of their difficulties along the way had come from damaged and blocked roads, and the need to skirt around large, highly irradiated cities. Although the countryside was mostly empty, there was wildlife, and the towns were often inhabited with ghouls, both feral and non, and were best avoided. 

“I think if we approach from the north, we can see if there’s any activity there,” Ellen said. Rhys grunted and Haylen punched him in the arm. Ellen pretended to ignore them. “If it looks like there’s hostiles inside, we can skirt around and find a campsite. Otherwise, we can shelter for a night or two before heading further into Boston."

The knights grumbled. They were used to barrelling into places, guns blazing. But Ellen had been taking a more cautious approach for most of the journey. This wasn’t the familiar Capital Wasteland, occupied by the Brotherhood for over a decade. This was unknown territory, from which the last scouting mission had not returned. It was better to know what they were dealing with before they headed into any situation.

* * *

As it happened, the fort was almost completely deserted. Worwick cooked up the last of the mirelurk they had shot the day before, and dished it out. Ellen turned it down. The smell of mirelurk made her gag lately. They had eaten so much of it along the way, she figured she was probably sick of it. She dug in her bag, pulling out a package of Dandy Boy Apples. Now these, she couldn’t get enough of.

They set up camp, and Ellen fell asleep practically before her head hit her bedroll. It seemed like an instant before she was shaken awake for her watch, and she got up with great reluctance, heading to the top of the parking garage where they were camped out. 

There was no sign of any hostile life, aside from some bugs hanging around the nearby medical centre, so she walked the perimeter of the roof, keeping an eye on the horizon. She fiddled with her Pip-boy, a rusty computer she hadn’t used in years, but had brought along as a portable terminal to keep logs and anything else she might need. She found a radio station, the first she’d heard since the Citadel, and to her delight it was playing a song she recognized. 

With the music to keep her company, dawn came quickly. The darkness of the night, broken only by the eerie glow of the irradiated area to the south, gave way to the rising sun. She could see the unfamiliar skyline of Boston in the distance, and she watched it come into view and then fade as a fog rolled in. 

The radio announcer came on. He seemed uncomfortable with his job, and existence in general. She smiled to herself. Chetan would have loved this guy. She sighed. It had been six years, and although she missed him terribly, she hadn’t had nearly as much difficulty dealing with it. Perhaps it was because Danse had needed her then, or because with no remains, she had no closure. Or maybe it was because it was still so fresh. 

As she watched the city disappear into the fog, she wondered for the thousandth time if she was doing the right thing. If she was even going to find answers here. Perhaps she had made a mistake. Maybe she should have stayed with Arthur, found a way to move on. 

She heard a noise behind her and wiped away a tear before turning to see Knight Rhys coming up the steps to relieve her. She updated him, then went inside, her melancholy mood giving way to deep exhaustion. They could probably stay another day, get their bearings, before moving on. After announcing the news to the squad, she went back to her bedroll and crawled in gratefully, sleeping for close to eight hours.

* * *

The extra sleep did little to help with her exhaustion. She felt like her very bones were full of lead. But she shrugged it off, chugging a warm Nuka Cola she found, and the squad set out for Cambridge. She wanted to find a good spot to make into a base, and after consulting with Haylen, decided on the police station, should it still be standing. They made their way there cautiously, aware of the increased danger from the close buildings. 

It was quiet. She could hear gunfire in the distance, indicating there was some life in the area, but nothing nearby. That was a bad sign. 

Before she’d joined the Brotherhood, Ellen had somehow managed to make her way, alone, and armed only with a ten millimeter pistol, through the ruins of downtown DC to find the Brotherhood. She would never have made it if she hadn’t been slow and careful the whole way. The memory was forefront in her mind as she ordered the squad to stay back, and stepping out of her armour, began creeping quietly towards the police station.

It looked empty, but upon closer inspection, she could see several ghouls resting in the shade of an old truck. There were too many, and with Keane’s armour damaged, they would be overrun in minutes. They had to clear out some of them before they could go in. 

She made her way to a high point, attached the suppressor to her rifle, and quietly began picking the ghouls off. She was far enough away that she got six of them before any of the others took notice, at which point she crept back to the squad. 

“I need a grenade,” she said. Rhys handed her one, and she headed back. She crept around the rear of the building, within range of the truck. She pulled the pin on the grenade and rolled it under the vehicle, then quickly ran in the opposite direction, ducking behind a building to wait for the grenade - and then the truck - to explode. 

When she came back with the rest of her squad, they cleared out the last few ghouls with no difficulty at all. She counted twenty-seven of them, when all was said and done. Running in would have been a disaster.

They took several days to fortify the area. There were ghouls in the nearby train station, but she wanted to make sure they had somewhere to fall back to before making any further advances, so they left them alone for the time being. 

Ellen was still tired, and a persistent pain crept up into her lower back that would not go away no matter what she did. She had Dawes look at her armour, but there was nothing wrong with it. She kept fiddling at it for days, but to no avail. She sighed, mournfully. Danse would have known what to do.

* * *

The knights were getting antsy cooped up in the police station, so she began sending them on missions to the nearby areas. There were a lot of ghouls nearby, and they killed a few every time they ventured out, but there were too many in the metro to get rid of all of them at once, so they just avoided the area.

The knights had been bringing back documents from the nearby university buildings for her, and she was learning a lot. She already had a pretty good idea that the Institute was some sort of offshoot or continuation of the Commonwealth Institute of Technology, a prewar facility that studied science and tech. But a trek to the school turned up nothing, so she concluded that at some point in the last two centuries, they had relocated elsewhere.

One afternoon, Haylen came to her. “I think we have a solution to our radio problem,” she said, handing a folder to Ellen. “There’s a deep range transmitter in ArcJet Systems. I was thinking if we send three of the knights there, they can retrieve it, and we can contact the Prydwen. It should be nearly here by now.

Ellen agreed, so the next morning she sent the three knights out to retrieve the tech, remaining behind with Keane, Rhys, and Haylen. She sat down at the terminal Haylen had gotten working, with the intention of inputting some of the logs from their journey onto a holotape, but instead she found herself staring off into space, absently stroking the metal shard around her neck. Hopefully once they got the radio up and running and got in contact with the main forces, she could check in with...

She tried not to think about Arthur, but her mind went there anyway. She wanted to hear his voice, to know he was okay. To tell him-

The sound of laser blasts from outside tore her from her thoughts. She jumped into her armour and ran outside, Keane was on the wall, firing over the side, while Rhys was trying to load his rifle. He seemed to be struggling. She would have to talk to him later about making sure his weapon was ready. 

She ran up the wall, and joined Keane, looking over the side. There were at least two dozen ghouls there, and more pouring down the hill. They were beating at the gate, and were only moments away from pushing through. 

“Cover me!” she yelled, jumping over the side. The shock wave of her armour hitting the crowd of ghouls knocked several of them down, but unfortunately it also knocked the gate in. They ran past her and towards the police station door. 

Rhys, having finally loaded his rifle, began shooting at them. Ellen stood behind the wall, out of his line of fire, and picked off several ghouls herself. When Rhys reloaded, she ran back in and stood on the steps to cover him, swapping places with him when she needed to reload.

Several of the ghouls had found the steps and were making their way up to where Keane still stood, armourless, on the wall. She shot down two of them, but she was swarmed herself and had to turn back to the ones in front of her. When she had cleared them away, she looked up to see that Keane had fallen from the wall, landing on the burned out wreck of the truck. He wasn’t moving, but he was at least out of reach of the ghouls, who lost interest in him and turned back to where she stood.

She ran out of ammo but had no time to reload. The ghouls kept coming. Haylen came outside and was shooting at them with a sidearm, despite Ellen shouting at her to get back inside, and Rhys was close to being overwhelmed as well. Ellen was certain they were done. “Get inside!” she yelled, trying to hold them back and cover the others so they could retreat. 

The sound of the shotgun caught her off guard, and she turned to see someone in rusty, prewar power armour blow away two ghouls in one shot. Ellen didn’t know where this person had come from, but she would take any help she could get. She took advantage of the ghouls’ distraction by the newcomer to reload, clearing the ghouls from Rhys and covering Haylen while she attempted to assist him, then focusing on the ones which were running at the stranger.

The shotgun mowed the ghouls down in no time, and finally, the courtyard was quiet. 

Ellen removed her helmet and walked over to the newcomer, taking in the poor condition of the rusty suit, the scavenged shotgun, and the awkward fumbling with the helmet, before they finally got it off to reveal a woman who looked so eerily like herself that it was like looking in a mirror.

“Hi,” the woman said. “I’m Lena MacKenzie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to express your thoughts on the Sole Survivor. ;)


	15. Hearts...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen learns a little about Lena, a secret is revealed, and Ellen meets a synth.

It felt like a celebration that night. 

When the knights returned, radio part in hand, they cleared the ghoul corpses from the courtyard and repaired the gate. They ate with gusto, Lena having recently met up with some settlers who had a farm, and who had provided her with a good supply of fresh baked goods. 

The knights were all happy to see someone other than each other, and it didn’t hurt that she had a bottle of moonshine, either. Ellen turned it down when it came her way, but she smiled as everyone else relaxed more than they had in weeks. 

Even Keane, suffering from a sprained wrist and a broken finger, was in good spirits, taking swigs from the bottle when Haylen wasn’t looking. Rhys was injured as well, but there were no losses, and Ellen was grateful.

She waited until the others bedded down for the night and Dawes switched out with Worwick for the watch, then turned to Lena, curious. When she had stepped out of the armour earlier, Ellen had been surprised to see she was wearing a Vault suit. She hadn’t seen one of those in years. 

Although Lena had dodged questions thrown at her by the others, Ellen thought maybe she would open up to her, once she revealed she had come from a Vault as well.

When the two women were alone, Ellen got up and stretched, rubbing her aching back, then went to a filing cabinet and pulled out a package of Dandy Boy Apples. She sat down and tore them open, offering them to Lena, who turned them down with a smile. 

“I can’t get enough of these.” Ellen said, her mouth full. 

Lena laughed. “I was the same,” she said.

Ellen looked at her quizzically but Lena didn’t say anything further.

She ate another apple, then pointed at Lena’s suit. “I came from Vault 101,” she told her. “I grew up there. What was your Vault like?”

Lena sighed and shrugged. “Vault Tec were pretty fucked up, weren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Ellen sighed. “My Vault was pretty normal, aside from it never opened. Supposedly. But I’ve seen a few others over the years and I consider myself lucky. You’re standing here though, so yours couldn’t have been too bad.”

Lena looked at her for a long time, and Ellen got the sense she was assessing her. She popped another apple in her mouth. Lena nodded slightly, as though she’d come to a decision. “Yeah, everyone else in Vault 111 is dead. Including my husband. The only one who survived is me, and my son, Shaun, who’s missing.”

Ellen reached out and patted Lena on the leg. “I’m so sorry to hear. Do you have any leads?” 

Lena sighed. “It’s a really long story.” She went on to explain how she’d been frozen in the Vault since the war, and she’d recently tracked down the man who had kidnapped Shaun and killed him. But he no longer had her son. “He’s ten now. He was a baby when that bastard stole him, and I didn’t even know until now. According to Kellogg, he’s in the Institute.” Ellen’s ears perked up. “I’m headed back to Diamond City now. There’s a detective, of sorts, there, and… he’s helping me figure this out.”

“I’m also missing someone,” Ellen said. “I think it’s the Institute too.” 

“Wait… didn’t you say that you came from Vault 101? I thought that was way down in…” she tapped her chin, trying to remember. 

“Washington,” Ellen finished for her.

“And you came all the way here?”

“Well, we’re just the advance reconnaissance scouting party. The Brotherhood has hundreds of members in the Capital Wasteland, and there will be more coming.”

“What’s the Brotherhood?”

Ellen gave Lena a quick rundown of the Brotherhood history and purpose. 

“And the Institute and its synths have been giving you problems all the way down there?”

“I think their reach is long. And there’s something they are after.”

“I know what you mean.”

The two women sat together in silence for a moment. A wave of sleepiness came over Ellen and she yawned. “I should get to sleep. Watch comes early around here.” They had already arranged a place for Lena to stay for the night. Ellen stood up and rubbed her back. Lena looked at her sympathetically.

“How far along are you?” she asked.

The question caught Ellen off guard, but somehow, deep down, she wasn’t surprised. She’d been denying her symptoms for a few weeks, coming up with excuses, hoping it was anything else than what it was. But faced with the blatant question, she had to face the truth. Her shoulders sagged.

“About three months,” she said.

* * *

The next morning, Ellen was going through the supplies, seeing if they had anything they could spare to help Lena on her way, when the woman in question walked in and, after brushing about an inch of dust off a nearby desk, leaned on it and crossed her arms over her chest. “I left the last of the bread for the guys,” she said.

“Thanks,” Ellen said. “They’ll appreciate that.” 

“I was thinking maybe you should come with me. For one, I could probably use someone to watch my back on the road, and secondly, there’s a doctor in Diamond City. I know you have a medic on your team here, but a field medic isn’t the same as an actual doctor.” She laughed. “Well, I don’t know about his credentials as an MD, but from what I’ve seen since I came out of the Vault, he’s probably better than most.”

Lena made a good point. It wasn’t that Haylen wasn’t competent, it was just that she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted her to know about Ellen’s condition. And while Brotherhood protocol dictated that she stay behind at the base and send her subordinates on various missions, she also knew that sometimes field missions required less than strict adherence to rules. Furthermore, with the radio repair being top priority, there shouldn’t be much in the way of activity for the group for at least a few days. 

Rhys was more than happy to take command of the squad while she was away. He was hoping to be promoted after this mission, so he relished the opportunity to prove himself. After packing some things and giving instructions on patrol requirements, and an order to radio in a report every six hours, she and Lena departed. 

Lena had been to Diamond City a few times already, in addition to having grown up in Boston, and knew the most efficient route to the settlement. So the two of them arrived without incident later that evening, and took the only remaining room in the Dugout Inn.

The short trip was enough to convince Ellen that Lena would make a good recruit for the Brotherhood. She was decent in a fight, deferred to Ellen’s superior experience, and was willing to learn. She broached the subject that evening. Lena was hesitant, stating her priority had to be finding her son first. Ellen understood that, remembering back to when she had first encountered the Brotherhood, back when she was searching for her father. 

“The offer’s on the table, whenever you’re ready,” Ellen said.

* * *

The following morning, Lena offered to go with Ellen to see Doctor Sun. She was grateful for the company as the doctor poked and prodded at her, finally proclaiming her to be healthy. He made some dietary recommendations and suggested she remain within the walls of the stadium, a suggestion which elicited an earnest nod of agreement from her, and heavy eyerolling between the two women behind his back.

They stopped to eat before their next stop. Ellen was ravenous. “Yeah, it was like that for me too, with Shaun,” Lena said. “I was exhausted the first trimester, and then absolutely starving the second.”

“How about the third?”  
“Well, I could barely move but I was horny as hell,” Lena laughed. 

Ellen’s eyes widened in shock. She wasn’t sure if Lena was joking or not but she didn’t want to ask. Instead, she changed the subject. 

“I was hoping I could go with you to meet this detective while we are here,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind. It’s just, you should know something first. The detective? It’s… a synth.”

“What?!” 

“Yeah, I had a hard time not shooting it on sight, but I was also kind of distracted at the time. It’s been benign up to this point, but I don’t entirely trust it, and I don’t think you should either.”

Ellen nodded slowly. She wouldn’t trust a synth either. Not after what they did to Danse - whether he was dead or missing. Lena stood, and Ellen followed her to the alleyway, where there was a neon sign advertising Valentine’s Detective Agency. 

It had a name? That was weird. Although she had to admit, she’d never even talked to a synth before. Except Harkness, she supposed. And he seemed okay. But then again, he was probably programmed to be that way. After all, the goal was to blend in with humans, wasn’t it?

Ellen had seen a number of synths over the years. Different types of robots with varying amounts of artificial looking skin attached to their bodies, and coursers, who could be mistaken for humans if it weren’t for their intolerance to pain and their supernatural agility and strength. 

Nick Valentine was something else. 

Old and tattered, his face looked like stained leather instead of plastic, but the tears in his “flesh” revealed disturbing hints of wire and metal. His eyes were glowing yellow, and he was dressed incongruously in something resembling a detective outfit from an old comic book. 

“I see you brought a friend, MacKay,” he said. He had a grizzled old grandpa voice, instead of the robot voice she was expecting. “Go ahead and stare, I’m used to it,” he added, and then he rolled his eyes at her. 

“This is Ellen.” Lena said. 

The synth turned to her. He did not make any gesture of welcome or friendliness. Instead, he sat at his desk and sat tapping his metal fingers on the surface. 

“Did you find Kellogg?” he asked.

“Yeah, and I pulled this out of his head. She pulled out a component of some kind and handed it to the synth, who turned it over in his hand. “Yeah, that’s Institute tech all right. I can’t help you with this, but I know someone who can. Have you ever been to Goodneighbor?”

* * *

They decided to go with Nick Valentine to Goodneighbor the next day. They made arrangements to store their power armour, on Nick’s advice, and the following morning, they three of them set out together. Lena seemed distrustful of the synth and hung back, but Ellen was curious so she fell in step with him.

“So how did a synth become a detective?” she asked.

“I woke up in a junk pile,” he said, explaining some of his past. A prototype, the Institute had discarded him, but without properly deactivating him first. They had implanted him with the memories of a pre-war detective, so after he crawled out of the trash, he decided to make a living solving cases for the people of the Commonwealth.

“They planted memories in your head?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure on the details - Dr. Amari is the expert there - but as far as I am concerned, I _am_ Nick Valentine. I know I’m not, not actually. But I remember his life. I _feel_ it.”

“That must be hard,” Ellen remarked.

“Sometimes, yeah.” Nick stopped. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“People are usually fearful or wary of me. Over time, they may get used to me and even be polite, but I don’t often see much actual kindness. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ellen pondered this as she walked. A synth that was grateful for kindness. It made her realize that as much as she’d read, as hard as she’d studied, she really knew nothing about synths at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of considering switching to once per week posting. For the people following this, do you prefer Saturdays or Wednesdays?


	16. ...And Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen and Lena visit the Memory Den

There was no place in the Capital Wasteland that quite prepared Ellen for Goodneighbor. The whole place reminded her a little of the trashy pulp paperbacks that were slowly disintegrating in the Vault library, with crime ridden alleys and neon-advertised sin. 

Nick’s vaguely noir-ish persona fit right in, however, and they made their way to the Memory Den unmolested, despite Ellen’s apprehension.

A woman in a red dress greeted them. Ellen looked around. The loungers in the Memory Den were all in use in spite of the late hour. “It’s sad, really. People trying to hold onto better days,” Nick said. Ellen had experienced a similar device years ago, so she merely nodded, but her steps halted as Nick and Lena disappeared into the back room. What would it be like inside her own memories, she wondered. Not some artificial simulation fed to her by a madman, but her own treasured moments. She could see her dad again. Chetan. Even Danse. 

“Honey, I’ve seen that look before.”

Ellen turned to the hostess, who had stepped up beside her. “You can’t bring them back. You can keep trying, but whoever it is you’ve lost, they ain’t coming back, and you’ll use yourself up trying to stay with them. It’s as bad as a bottle. And I shouldn’t be sayin’, what with it being my livelihood and all, but I’d hate to see a sweet girl like you go down the wrong path.” 

Ellen turned and looked at the clients in their pods… thin, filthy, even by wasteland standards. All but the one bald guy at the end. 

She looked around. “Where…?”

“Your friends have gone down the back, honey. You go catch up.”

Ellen nodded her thanks and headed to the back and down the stairs. 

She found Nick, Lena, and a doctor in a lab without much difficulty. The doctor signalled for Ellen to be quiet and have a seat while she guided the other woman and the synth into the memory devices, which were connected to a terminal. Ellen waited quietly while the doctor walked them through some memories, looking for information on Lena’s lost son. 

When it was over, the doctor released Nick first, who nodded vacantly at Ellen before heading out of the room. “He’ll need a minute, but he’ll be fine,” the doctor told Ellen. “She’s going to need a minute, so I’ve induced a sort of sleep state until her vitals calm down.”

“I see, Doctor…?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. They told me you were right behind them, but then we got busy. I’m Doctor Amari.”

“And what is it you do here, Doctor Amari?”

The welcome in the doctor’s eyes was replaced with a hint of wariness that was quickly hidden with a smile. “I deal with some of the more complicated cases, you might say. Irma deals with the people who want to remember, but I generally deal with the ones who want to forget.”

“Nick said you know about Institute tech?”

The wariness in Doctor Amari’s eyes returned. “I’ve developed somewhat of a knowledge base in that field, you might say,” she replied.

“So Lena was able to walk through Kellogg’s memories stored in that chip?”

“No, they weren’t stored in the chip. They were stored in the bit of brain attached. The chip merely kept it alive. I still needed something to connect it to, which is why Nick volunteered.” The doctor sighed. “He’s really too kind for his own good.”

“I’ve seen synth chips before, in the human looking synths. Is it the same?”

“Yes, they memories are stored in the brain, just like humans. The synth component doesn’t really do anything except allow remote access to motor control and some electronic control of neurons, in order to allow them to go longer without sleep or rest. Third generation synths are created in a way more like cloning than construction. The component is added at that time. A similar device, such as the one in Kellogg, can be added to a human as well. The difference is that you can remove or replace the one in a human. The synth and courser components are embedded in a way that would kill them if removed.”

“Courser components are different?” 

“They are different. I’ve never actually worked with a living courser, although I know a few people who have.”

“So you can access synth memories?”

“Just like humans, we can access memories and allow someone to relive them, or in this lab, we can share them or block them, or even plant false memories.”

“So you could erase my memories and plant new ones?” 

“No, they don’t erase. They are just blocked. We can implant new ones, but the old ones are just layered underneath.”

“And you’ve worked with synths before?”

The wary look was back. “Look, I should wake her up,” Doctor Amari said. “Perhaps you could go wait with Mr. Valentine while I finish up with Ms. MacKenzie.”

Ellen knew when she could push no further, so she took her leave.

* * *

Lena was quite upset after she left the memory den. She had just relived her son’s kidnapping and it was a while before she stopped crying. Ellen sat with her and rubbed her back until Lena rubbed her face and smiled weakly at Ellen. 

“Are you hungry?” Ellen asked, and Lena nodded.

Nick decided to go back home, so the two women looked for somewhere to buy some food, and they found a few other vendors as well. By that point, Lena seemed back to normal. They headed back to their room and Ellen radioed Haylen. 

“She says the long range radio should be running sometime tomorrow, so we should have an ETA for the Prydwen soon,” Ellen told Lena.

Lena set their food out and Ellen picked up her fork and began to eat. 

“You know. I’m beginning to think I might join your group after all,” Lena said. She explained how she needed to go to the Glowing Sea to find a scientist who might know a way into the Institute. “I think they are using teleportation,” she said.

Ellen was excited. Lena had already learned so much about the Institute and she knew Arthur would be eager to get her on their side.

“I am authorized for field recruitments,” she said. “We will have weapons, good armour, vertibirds, and training, once the Prydwen arrives.”

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” Lena said. “I saw you eyeing that dress today. It would look good on you. You should have bought it.”

“I didn’t know how much longer it would fit,” Ellen laughed. “But it would be nice to get out of this damn uniform for once and wear something pretty.”

“I’ve got just the thing.” Lena dug in her bag and pulled out a lipstick, dotting it on Ellen’s lips for her. Ellen got up to look in the mirror, wiping away a smudge on her cheek and patting her chin length hair, which immediately stuck back up again. 

Lena came and stood beside her. “We kinda look alike,” she remarked.

They did at first glance, but it was fairly superficial. Lena was about an inch shorter, and curvier in build. Where Ellen’s hair was black, Lena’s was more of a dark brown. Ellen had greenish hazel eyes, while Lena’s were light blue. And Ellen had a smattering of freckles across her pale nose, compared to Lena’s more evenly toned skin. 

The bright red lipstick looked weird on Ellen. She’d never worn makeup before, and it was jarring. When Lena applied it to herself, she looked more comfortable, sexy even. Ellen felt like she was playing dressup, and reached for a cloth to wipe it off.

Lena stopped her. “You look fine,” she said. “Whenever you find baby’s dad, he’ll think you look just as amazing as ever.”

“Oh, I’m not missing… uh… no. The person I’m looking for has been gone…” she thought for a moment. Oh, god, “He’s been gone over a year,” she realized sadly. “The dad… well, he’s not really in the picture any more.” She didn’t mention Arthur’s name. She’d done enough to him already without that sort of breach of his privacy.

“Wow. And you didn’t decide to terminate when you saw the doctor? Being a single parent in this world seems like it would be hard.”

“No, I’ll still have the Brotherhood. The baby will be able to be a squire, and trained, educated, all that. They will have a lot of advantages that wasteland kids never will.”

“Yet another point in joining, if only to have a place to bring up Shaun when we find him,” Lena said. “We would do anything for our children, wouldn’t we? Once we lay our eyes on them, there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to protect them, to give them the best possible life. They own our souls one hundred percent.”

* * *

Lena did decide to join the Brotherhood the next day. They walked back to Diamond City to retrieve their power armour, and then headed to Cambridge. Ellen explained what would be expected of her as a Brotherhood Initiate. 

“I’ll assign you to one of the knights for some field training. I have a mission that would be perfect. When the Prydwen arrives, Elder Maxson will confirm your membership and there will be a swearing in at some point, and then you will be issued kit and trained officially. Since I’m sponsoring you, you will probably be assigned to me.”

When they arrived back at the Police Station, Ellen heard status reports from Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen. There were no issues while she was away, and the long range radio was operational. Haylen had already been in contact with the Prydwen and they were awaiting a report from Ellen ASAP.

Ellen informed Rhys that Lena had been recruited, and that he was to lead a mission with Lena and one other knight north, where there had been reports of intermittent radio signals that might lead them to information on the missing recon mission led by Paladin Brandis a few years earlier. 

Rhys saluted and then left with Lena to begin preparations for the field mission and to brief her on the procedure, while Ellen went with Haylen to the radio to check in with the Prydwen.

* * *

Ellen was nervous as she waited for the radio to connect. What if Arthur wanted to talk to her? They hadn’t spoken since that night in his quarters and she missed him terribly. 

The voice on the other end of the radio belonged not to Arthur Maxson, but to Lancer Captain Kells, the commanding officer of the Prydwen. “We’re all pleased to hear your entire squad is well, Paladin,” he said. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Ellen replied. “May we have an ETA on the Prydwen’s arrival?”

“We should be arriving in less than a week.”

“That’s good news. How was the journey?”

“Not without its hiccups, but we are ahead of schedule, so I am satisfied. Scribe Haylen’s preliminary report stated that you’ve secured a base of operations?”

“Yes Sir. At the Cambridge Police station. It’s secure, although we are looking forward to a resupply and some time off. We lost no members of our team, and only suffered minor injuries during our mission. In fact, I’ve recruited someone, so we are up one person.”

“That’s excellent news, Paladin. We look forward to your report. And I must say, on a more… personal note, the Elder has been very much concerned with your lack of communication, and from what I understand, he is very much relieved that you are all well.”

Ellen’s heart was soaring as she signed off. Arthur was worried about her? She smiled to herself as she prepared to sleep. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he’d be more receptive when she returned, open to talk. She had so much to tell him. Although she didn’t regret coming to the Commonwealth, she did regret how they had left things and she hoped the time apart had cooled his anger a bit. 

Her hand slid down to her belly, which was still flat, although she could feel the start of the hard bulge within. 

Less than a week. Less than a week and she would see Arthur again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only had one comment regarding posting dates, but it was for Wednesday, so I am going to post just on Wednesdays either until I finish, or until I catch up to what I've written. I've still got quite a few chapters to post, but I still have three or four to write as well, and it's catching up fast. 
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and feedback so far, I am really glad everyone's liking this. :D


	17. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Chapter Where Lots and Lots of Things Happen

Rhys’s party was still gone when the Prydwen arrived. It was sunset when the airship passed by overhead, headed to the Boston Airport. The orange-red rays of the sun lit shone on its polished metal sides, highlighting it and reflecting back a golden halo. Ellen, who was on the roof of the police station, struggled to hold back tears at the sight. 

As she watched, a vertibird pulled away from the docking port on the underside of the ship and headed towards her, the loud sound of the blades drowning out the beat of her heart.

When the vertibird landed, a knight in shining power armour hopped out. “Paladin MacKay?” he asked.

“Yes.” 

“Elder Maxson would like you aboard the Prydwen immediately for a debriefing.”

The knight hopped down to relieve her and she took his place on the vertibird, removing her helmet and nodding to the other knight who was manning the gun. As they rose into the air and approached the Prydwen, she removed her helmet and ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes and letting the breeze cool her brow. 

This was not how she wanted to see him after all this time, sweaty and covered in grime, but she knew that it wouldn’t be a concern. If he really had been as worried about her as Kells had implied, perhaps they would be able to rebuild their relationship, find some common ground to start from. She imagined him taking her hands in his, smiling, perhaps pressing his brow to hers despite the knight standing guard.

“Arthur,” she would say. “I have some news…”

The jolt of the vertibird connecting knocked her out of her imagination. She shook her head and waited for the engine to stop before hopping down and marching to the door, saluting the knight at the door along the way. 

She strode onto the command deck. Her heart nearly stopped as she saw him, his hands clasped behind his back as he stood looking out the window at the Boston ruins rolling past below. 

“Arthur,” she smiled.

He turned around. The look on his face was hard. “How many times do I need to tell you not to address me informally, Paladin?”

It was like a slap to the face. Ellen straightened her back and clenched her teeth. “I’m sorry Sir. Force of habit. I have reports which I can upload to the Prydwen computer. It would be more _efficient_ than reporting directly to you.”

“Thank you, Paladin. I understand you have a new recruit?”

“Yes Sir. She has a great deal of information regarding the Institute and I believe she will be a valuable asset. I’ve sent her with Knight Rhys to investigate the missing recon squad.”

“Excellent. I understand quarters have been set aside for you, if you like, and Knight-Captain Cade is waiting for you if you need any medical attention.”

She just wanted to get out of here. And the last thing she needed was Cade announcing her condition to Arthur. She’d rather be in the field. 

“That’s not necessary, Sir. I’d prefer to take the opportunity to clean up then get back to Cambridge to wait for Knight Rhys to return. I’m certain the rest of the recon squad will be grateful for some leave time, though.”

Arthur nodded. “That is already approved, although you should take your leave as well.”

Ellen looked him in the eye. “I believe I would be more _comfortable_ somewhere other than the Prydwen. _Sir._ ”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and there was a long pause. 

“Perhaps that would be best. When Initiate…?

“MacKenzie, Sir.”

“When Initiate MacKenzie returns, please bring her aboard for an inspection.”

“Yes Sir.” 

“You are dismissed.” Arthur turned back to the window. She watched him for a moment. His back was straight and his hands were behind his back, his left hand holding his tightly clasped right fist. She raised her hand a little, wanting to touch him, but instead she turned and left.

* * *

The quarters she was given were, disconcertingly, right next door to the Elder’s quarters. Some of her belongings from the citadel were already inside, stored in boxes she had packed and requested to be brought aboard prior to leaving. She cleaned up quickly, headed to the power armour bay to give her armour a quick once over, while studiously avoiding the medical bay. A little over two hours later, she was back on board a vertibird headed towards the police station with fresh troops to replace her worn out team. 

A few days later, Rhys arrived with Lena and a frazzled looking Paladin Brandis, who would not have returned without Lena’s coaxing, having lost the remainder of his team early in their mission. 

He smiled when he saw Ellen. “If you’re here, then Danse must be nearby,” he remarked, looking over her shoulder like he expected Danse to materialize behind her.

“No, Mark. We lost him in an ambush about a year ago.”

“Aw, Ellen. I’m so sorry. I had him pegged for Sentinel one day.”

“Thanks, Mark.”

“I suppose Maxson wants us all front and centre?”

“Yeah, I’ve already radioed for a pickup.” Ellen could get used to the recent adoption of vertibirds for transportation.

They arrived on the Prydwen a short time later and stood near the back of the Command Deck while Arthur finished a speech he was giving to a group of paladins. Once they were dismissed, she stepped forward with Brandis and Lena. Arthur’s eyes widened slightly as he looked back and forth between Ellen and Lena. 

Ellen ignored his reaction and stood at attention, her gaze directed somewhere over his left ear and waited for him to address her. 

“Paladin MacKay,” he finally said. “I see you have returned Paladin Brandis.”

“Yes Sir. I believe Initiate MacKenzie was responsible, Sir,” she addressed his left shoulder.

“Welcome back, Paladin Brandis. I’m sure you would like to find accommodations and get cleaned up before worrying about any debriefing. However, I wanted to express my gratitude that you have returned to us safely.” After a few more pleasantries, Brandis was dismissed and Arthur turned to Ellen.

“Is this the initiate you mentioned in your report?”

“Yes, Sir. I’d like to introduce you to Lena MacKenzie. She came from Vault 111, northwest of here. She’s discovered quite a lot about the Institute, and has a lead on a possible means of access. With our assistance, she may be able to locate a scientist who has defected from the Institute and is hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea.”

“Yes, I read all this in your report. I’m impressed with your resourcefulness, Initiate, as well as your work finding Paladin Brandis. Therefore, I am bestowing on you the rank of Knight, effective immediately.”

Ellen turned to look at Lena, who had a look of shock on her face. “A knight?” Ellen couldn’t help but smile. She was going to be great. 

“Thank you, Elder Maxson. I won’t let you down.” 

Arthur dismissed them. As soon as they were out of earshot, Lena turned to her. “He’s got quite the stick up his ass, doesn’t he? Still. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.”

“Elder Maxson is a firm believer in order and professionalism, Knight,” Ellen chided. “He has a low tolerance for disrespect among the ranks. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the rules.”

Ellen took Lena on a tour of the Prydwen, introducing her to the various proctors and their departments, before showing her to the barracks where she would be quartered. Exhausted, Ellen headed for her own quarters. As she opened the door, Arthur came around the corner, stopping in his tracks when he saw her. They looked at each other for a moment, then, wordlessly, Arthur turned to his own door and went inside, shutting it behind him. 

After a moment, Ellen did the same.

* * *

After a long night, much of which was spent tossing and turning, Ellen went to the mess hall in hopes of finding Lena. They had training to do and as Lena’s sponsor, and since Lena was already a knight, it was Ellen’s job to train her. 

Lena was sitting alone at a table when Ellen came in, so Ellen headed to get some food. While she was waiting, Arthur came in. He spotted Lena and spoke to her briefly. Lena nodded, and Arthur sat down. 

Someone poked Ellen in the back and she realized the line had moved on without her. She hurried to collect the rest of her breakfast and when she turned around, Arthur had got to his feet and was holding his hand out to Lena, who took it and stood, and to Ellen’s disbelief, the two of them walked out the door.

* * *

Ellen spent the day repairing her power armour. Arthur and Lena had been gone all day. She ignored Lena when she came into the armour bay around dinner time with a damaged helmet, and then when hunger finally drove her to the mess and she saw the two of them in the corner, sitting hunched over a chessboard, she grabbed her food and took it to her quarters to eat alone. 

She tried to tell herself that she had no right to be upset. She had told Arthur to see other people, and she had no claim over him or any right to tell him who he could or couldn’t see. But that didn’t make her any less restless when she laid in bed that night staring at the ceiling. 

She laid awake until well past midnight, when she finally heard Arthur enter his room next door, clearly alone.

* * *

The next morning she was awoken by her name being called over the intercom system as she was paged to a meeting at 0900. She had had a restless night, and a quick glance in the mirror showed dark circles under her eyes. She washed her face, and pulled her bomber jacket over her jumpsuit. The bump of her belly wasn’t really noticeable yet, but she wasn’t taking any chances. 

Ellen sat quietly during the meeting. The day before, Lena and Arthur had talked quite a lot about her experiences since coming out of the Vault, and he had agreed to equip her to go to the Glowing Sea in search of the scientist rumoured to be there. There was some discussion on who should accompany her, and Ellen’s name came up, but neither Ellen nor Lena was keen on that. The heavily irradiated region seemed a bit dangerous just now, and judging by the sympathetic look Lena threw her, the new knight clearly agreed.

In the end, Paladin Wilson was selected to accompany Lena to the Glowing Sea, and they were to set out two days later.

Ellen was lost in thought as the meeting wrapped up, and stayed in her seat as everyone filed out. She startled when Arthur cleared his throat. “Are you waiting to accost me again?” he asked, eyeing her warily. 

“No. Sir. I was just thinking. May I have leave to return to the police station until Knight MacKenzie returns? My squad has collected a good amount of documentation from the local buildings I would like to review.”

“Approved.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” She stood to leave. 

She had just reached the door when Arthur spoke again. “El- Paladin.” His voice was soft.

She turned to look at him. 

“I just wanted to tell you I’m glad we didn’t lose you on your mission.”

She searched his face, but his expression was neutral.

“Thank you, Arthur.” She left before he could say anything about her use of his name.


	18. The Courser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen tracks down a courser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for some gore in this chapter.

She was called back to the Prydwen about a week and a half later. Lena and Paladin Wilson had returned, and although both were somewhat ill from rads, they were otherwise uninjured, and had quite a lot of information to share. 

She boarded the airship and made her way to the med bay. Knight Captain Cade greeted her. “Excellent, Paladin. Knight MacKenzie has been asking after you.” He indicated a door, which Ellen opened to find Arthur bent over the bed. When she entered, he straightened abruptly. His face was inscrutable, but his cheeks were slightly red. Ellen felt like choking him.

She turned to Lena and smiled. “How are you?” she asked.

“Getting better. I have a lot of news. Plans.”

“Plans?”

“Yes. I was just telling Arthur - uh - Elder Maxson. I have plans to build a teleportation device. We need some materials, but we should be able to construct it right here at the airport. But in order to access the molecular relay system, we need a courser chip.”

“We don’t have one of those. Maybe at the Citadel…”

“It would take months to get here,” Arthur interjected. “But she’s got the radio frequency. And your Pipboy should be able to track it with that.”

“Where do I even start?”

“The lead I have is for a building near Cambridge. You should be able to pick up the signal from there,” Lena said.

“I believe you are familiar with the area already, so you were the best choice.”

It made sense. “So track down the courser and retrieve the chip. Got it.”

“I will assign a squad-”

“No, this seems like more of a stealth mission. I think a stealth boy and some suppressed weapons would be the best choice. I’d rather not get any closer to a courser than I already have.”

“Agreed, Paladin.”

Ellen stood there a moment longer, and when nobody else spoke, she said, “if there’s nothing else?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She just left.

She walked out of the med bay and turned the corner, standing in the secluded back corridor. She leaned on the wall and covered her face in her hands. Arthur found her like that a moment later, coming around the corner and standing in front of her. She waited, but he didn’t say anything.

“What do you want?” she finally asked. She hated the sulky tone in her voice. 

“I don’t know. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I still love you, Arthur. You can’t make that go away.”

“You ended our relationship, Ellen.”

“I did.” 

“You told me to find someone else,” he added.

“Then why are you here? Arthur? It’s clear you’ve moved on.”

She turned to leave but he caught her by the arm. 

“Let me go. I have a mission to prepare for.”

He released her arm, and she walked away.

* * *

The signal led Ellen to Greenetech Genetics. She entered cautiously. There were Gunners inside, and it sounded like they were after the same person she was. She activated her stealth boy and crept around them. 

She made her way up several levels in this fashion, only taking out a few Gunners, silently, until she came to a walkway near the top. Her stealth boy was overheating, so she crept into a bathroom to let it cool down. She was crouching in the stall when the man came in. 

He was as silent as she was, dressed in ratty jeans and a ragged t-shirt. He was bald, and wearing dark glasses. He turned and saw her. 

“Well hello, Paladin. I was wondering when you would show up.”

Ellen pointed her gun at him. “Who are you and how do you know who I am?”

“It’s my job to know who everyone is. But for the record, I’ve been to the Capital Wasteland, years ago, so I know who you are there too, Lone Wanderer.”

Ellen narrowed her eyes and did not drop her weapon. “That doesn’t answer who you are.” 

“I’m Deacon, and I think we’re after the same thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“You want to get through all these Gunners and get to that courser up there. I don’t know why, but I have to say I approve. I want to get through the courser too, but what I’m after is someone else.”

“Who?”

“Someone who needs our help. And I think we can work together. I like your style. I didn’t even know you were here, until I came into the bathroom. I knew someone was here, but I didn’t know where.”

Ellen held up the stealth boy. Deacon laughed. “Well that’s a little like cheating, isn’t it?”

“Despite what the Brotherhood tends to do, sometimes running in guns all ablaze isn’t the best solution.”

“I think we’re on the same page there.”

The two of them worked out a plan to get past the remaining Gunners and to the elevator. Twenty minutes - and six dead Gunners - later, they rode up together. There was still one Gunner remaining and the courser had him subdued. Deacon and Ellen knew better than to think he was distracted, though. Ellen activated her stealth boy and waited just around the entryway while Deacon strolled in.

“Hey, I’m looking for customer service,” he announced. “I need to return my genes. They don’t fit.”

“Who the hell are you?” the courser asked. 

“I’m a dissatisfied customer, of course. I’d like to talk to a manager.”

The Gunner took the opportunity to try and sneak away, but the courser shot him in the chest without even looking, before turning fully to Deacon. 

Ellen stood behind the wall, trying to control her breathing. For all she knew, this courser was the very one who had exploded Danse’s armour and almost killed her. 

“You will tell me who you are, and you will identify your companion as well.”

“Happy to,” Deacon said. “My name is Z2-47, initialize factory reset. Authorization code Zeta-5-3-Kilo.”

There was silence. Ellen cautiously peeked around the corner to find the courser slumped over to one side. 

“What did you do?” she asked.

“Synths - even coursers - have a recall code programmed into their component. It freezes their motor functions so they can be retrieved and returned to the Institute.”

“Is he dead?” 

“No, just disabled. He’ll stay like this indefinitely unless his recall code is used again to reactivate him. Eventually he’ll starve to death.”

“I can’t just take him like this. I need his chip.”

“Well, that’s in his head. You have two choices. Knife or shotgun.” 

A sound from the next room caught their attention. “Who’s that?” Ellen asked.

“That’s who I’m after. Can you hack terminals?” 

“I think so.” Ellen started on the computer, trying to ignore the unnerving presence of the deactivated courser standing limply in the middle of the room.

Once the door was open, Deacon went in to talk to the girl who was locked inside. They emerged a moment later. “This is Jenny,” he said. “She’s a runaway synth. This courser was after her.” He turned to Jenny. “Do you need any help?” 

“No, I’m okay. I knew where I was headed before these assholes kidnapped me. But don’t leave him like this. If he wakes up, I’m done for.”

“Stay safe, Jenny,” Deacon said, and she departed. 

“Is she going to be okay?”

“This guy was the leader,” Deacon said, poking the courser’s last victim with his toe. “With him dead, the rest will retreat.”

“What do you mean by runaway synth?”

“Third gen synths are sort of cloned, not built. Then they are made to work under pretty shitty conditions. Sometimes they escape, head out into the Commonwealth for a better life. A _free_ life. A courser’s job - it’s only purpose - is to retrieve missing ‘Institute property’”

He walked over to the courser. “We could leave him like this, and if we’re lucky, he’ll rot. But more likely he’ll be retrieved by the Institute and sent back on his mission, to fetch Jenny. Or we could kill him, and she’d be safe.”

“There’s a doctor, she wipes memories…” Ellen started.

“It doesn’t work as well when it’s not voluntary, and a courser is too dangerous to take that risk. I’ve only ever heard of three coursers who ever voluntarily defected from the Institute. Besides. You need the chip, right?”

Why was this so hard? Ellen was surprised how reluctant she was to just shoot the courser. “He’s just standing here,” she said.

“Well, we could toss him over the side of the building.”

“Ugh. Okay. Give me the shotgun.” Deacon handed her the weapon, and after stepping out of range, she shot the courser in the head.

“Oh god, I hope I didn’t ruin the chip,” she said. She located a pen and used it to pick through the mess. It looked disturbingly human.“ Oh shit, I’m gonna puke,” she said, stepping to the side and vomiting on the floor. Deacon handed her some water and she rinsed her mouth out and tried to hand it back.

“Uh… no thanks,” he commented. 

She retrieved her pen and went back to work, finally finding the component inside the ruined skull.

“Gross,” Deacon remarked, leaning over her shoulder. 

The chip looked undamaged, thankfully. 

She wrapped the chip in a bit of paper and stowed it in her bag, before rinsing her hands with the remainder of the water and wiping them on the dead Gunner’s pants. 

“Ready to go?” Deacon asked. 

“Are you coming with me?”

“At least until we get outside. It’s a bit safer to travel in groups, I’ve discovered.”

They headed back down together. Eventually, Ellen asked, “You said three coursers have defected?” 

“That I know of. And that’s in the last fifteen years, so it’s not exactly common. If you think coursers are relentless when they come for regular synths, you should see how they are when they come for one of their own. I don’t think they like to linger in the area.”

“So how do you know so much about all this?”

“Some people don’t like to see anyone enslaved… even a synth. Some people try to help. We get them out, maybe find them a home. Sometimes they ask for a memory wipe or even a face change. It makes them harder to find if they don’t know who they are. And some of them don’t want to remember.”

“Do coursers do anything else? Lead attack forces or anything?”

“Nope, not generally. Sometimes they serve as security for specialized surface missions, I think. Guarding the higher ups when they can’t just send a synth. But normally, no. They don’t attack unprovoked.”

“So if a courser was in the Capital Wasteland…”

“That’s pretty far for a retrieval mission. They would have to be after more than one synth. Or one really important one.”

They didn’t talk much more until they got back outside. 

“Thanks for your help, Deacon. I am going to request a vertibird for pickup,” she said. “You should come to the Prydwen with me. I think Elder Maxson would be interested in what you know.”

“I don’t think the Brotherhood and I think the same way on a lot of things. I prefer to keep my feet on the ground. But if you ever need to find me, just follow the Freedom Trail.” With that, Deacon gave her a mock salute, then turned and strolled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about skipping last week, everyone. I had a bit of a rough week last week, but I am back on track now. I will try to answer everyone's comments in the next day or two, and thank you everyone for leaving them. I saw them all and I really appreciate every single one!


	19. Secrets

Lena was back on her feet in a few days. With the plans in hand to build the molecular relay and a disassembled Liberty Prime needing parts, most of the Brotherhood forces were tasked with tech and material retrieval duties. Although she was still in charge of the outpost at the Cambridge Police Station, Ellen was also tasked with training Lena in field duties, so she spent quite a lot of time out in the field with her on salvage missions.

Lena was smart, having graduated from Harvard Law School about two years before the bombs fell, although she had quit working to stay at home when she had Shaun. “Nate was gone a lot - not that that wasn’t a blessing - so it was easier to stay home. And now that he’s gone, I am glad I spent that extra time with him.”

Lena talked a lot about her son, how upset she was that she’d missed so much of his life, how she couldn’t wait to see him, and how afraid she was that he’d reject her after all this time apart. For her, it had only been a few months, but for Shaun, it had been all his life. 

With such a personal motivation, Lena was driven to get the parts needed as quickly as possible, and was often the first one up in the morning, pressuring them to get going. 

But despite that, she took care with Ellen as well, volunteering in the more dangerous situations, giving her advice, and making sure she ate and drank enough. She even rubbed Ellen’s back sometimes when the muscles of her back and hips would sometimes spasm at night after long days on her feet. 

Aside from Lena, Ellen still hadn’t told anyone else she was expecting. She didn’t know how to bring it up. Lena was in a budding romance with Arthur, and Ellen still had not disclosed her past relationship with him.

But with her belly growing every day, it was soon going to be impossible to hide.

* * *

“We’ve got it,” Proctor Ingram said, the next time they were at the airport. “A little testing and some final tweaks, and it should be good to go.”

The molecular relay was nearing completion, and they had been called into a meeting to discuss who was going to be tasked with attempting to use the untried technology. The various Paladins, Proctors, and the Elder discussed the topic for several minutes, but no conclusion was reached. Finally, the single knight in the room stood up. 

“I think I should go,” Lena announced. There was an outburst from the attendants, but Elder Maxson held up a hand.

“Let’s hear her out,” he said, and the group fell silent. 

“Well,” Lena said, obviously a little taken aback at being put on the spot suddenly. “The way I see it is one, I was the one who gathered the intel needed in the first place. I could have gone to another faction… there’s all kinds of groups all over the Commonwealth with good reasons to want access to the Institute. Two,” she counted on her fingers, “I’m just a knight. If I get captured, or killed, it’s going to be a lot less damaging to the Brotherhood than if you lost someone more important. And thirdly,” Lena turned pleading eyes to everyone in the room, finally coming to rest on Arthur. “My son is in there. My son. Everything I have done since I came out of the Vault has been for him.”

Arthur and Lena looked at each other for a long moment, then Arthur nodded sharply. “Agreed. We’ll send Knight MacKenzie.” 

Lena sat down. “Thank you.” she said.

* * *

The next day, Ellen was in the barracks helping Lena decide what to bring. She had decided to wear civilian clothes, in order to make less of an aggressive statement once she got into the Institute. Proctor Quinlan had requested that she attempt to access the Institute computers and download as much information as possible. 

“Can you try to get some data on the Institute’s plans and activities in the Capital Wasteland?” Ellen asked. It was a long shot, but at this point she wasn’t getting anywhere with anything else she was doing.

Lena stopped what she was doing and sat next to Ellen. “You haven’t told me much about who you’re looking for. It’s been all about me and my son. I’m sorry.”

Ellen smiled sadly. “That’s okay. Honestly, I don’t even know if he’s missing. Everyone else says he’s dead. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m just having a hard time moving on.”

“How long were you together?” 

“Almost nine years.”

Lena took her hand. “It’s hard to let go when someone’s been a part of your life for so long.”

Ellen nodded. 

“But soon you’ll have someone else in your life who needs you, so you need to focus on that.” 

Ellen put her hand on her belly, feeling the bulge there.

“I think I have everything I need.” Lena stood up with a sigh. “I wish I had something nice to wear, though. Arthur wants me to come play chess in his room tonight. He’s a sucker for punishment, I guess. He hasn’t beat me once.” Lena winked. “I was president of the chess club at Harvard. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

Ellen’s heart jolted and she felt a little sick inside. She stood up. “I should probably get some sleep. You should too. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late.” She immediately felt guilty for her petty comment, but luckily Lena didn’t seem to pick up on it.

“I’ll do my best, but no promises,” she said with a laugh.

* * *

Ellen lay in bed a short while later, staring into the darkness, trying to keep from straining to hear any sound from the next room. Her whole body felt tense, and there was a pain in her chest that felt like a yao guai was sitting on her, squeezing the breath out of her body. She blinked, trying not to cry, but it was futile.

She rolled onto her back and wiped the tears away with her wrist. Suddenly, there was a sensation like someone under her bed had punched the underside of her mattress. Almost like a faint thud. Her breath stopped and she waited. A moment later it came again, a fluttering nudge deep within her abdomen. Her hand shot to her belly. 

Someone was alive in there. 

She waited, and after a long moment, it came again. Her tears dried and a smile crept onto her face. For the first time since she’d lost Danse, she didn’t feel so completely alone.

Maybe Lena was right. It was time to let go, of Danse and of Arthur. 

She had someone else who needed her more.

* * *

Ellen slept well the rest of the night, despite everything. The next day, she was eating when Lena came in to the mess hall, thankfully alone, and clearly from the crew quarters and not the officer’s quarters. Ellen smiled at Lena and pointed at the other chair at her table, and Lena joined her a moment later with her breakfast.

Ellen had almost finished, and she let Lena pick at her food for a few minutes, before asking, “Are you nervous?”

Lena laughed. “Yeah, I can’t eat. I’m so anxious to see Shaun. Did you want this?” She pushed her tray towards Ellen, who took it gratefully and began eating her second breakfast. 

“Try to focus on that,” she said around a mouthful of toast. “Don’t worry about anything else until you have to deal with it.”

“I’ll try,” Lena said. “Will you come see me off?”

“Of course.” 

Lena seemed more and more anxious as the time approached. When they boarded the vertibird to the airport, her leg bounced and her eyes shot around like a terrified animal. Ellen sat next to her and held her hand, and when they landed and Proctor Ingram told them they had a little time yet, they decided to go for a walk. 

They headed down a rarely used hallway and found a door to outside, which Ellen propped open with a can so they wouldn’t get locked out. “Just put your head between your knees,” Ellen said, and Lena bent forward, breathing heavily while Ellen rubbed her back. 

Ellen startled when the door opened a moment later and she turned to see Arthur step outside. Lena straightened up and when she saw him, she threw herself into his arms. He hesitated a moment, glancing at Ellen, then wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

Ellen looked at them for a moment, then went back inside.

* * *

After the molecular relay took Lena away with a crack of electricity and a burning sulphur smell that seemed to coat her throat for hours, all they could do was wait. 

Arthur was worried, although he didn’t let on, striding about the Prydwen and the Airport as usual. She wouldn’t have noticed at all if she didn’t know him so well. But she could see it in the tight set of his jaw, the line between his brows. 

Ellen, in some ways, had it easier. She still had material to salvage for Liberty Prime, and she and Rhys made short work of the task, assisted by some research from Haylen. She managed to get to Diamond City to see the doctor there again, who gave her a clean bill of health, although he strongly advised her to stop working and see the Brotherhood medic. She agreed, but she also wasn’t ready to face Arthur with the news, especially given how long she had been keeping it from him. 

But at nearly six months, she was going to have to give in soon. Her power armour was rapidly growing uncomfortable, and she knew she was going to need proper care very soon.

The gentle nudges within her came more frequently. Sometimes at night she could feel it in her, when she lay still, her breasts heavy and tight. Her body warm, her skin overly sensitive. It felt visceral, like an extension of Arthur within her, and when she closed her eyes, she relived it, the feel of his hands on her, his mouth between her thighs, his cock filling her with his seed. Sometimes she would come in her sleep, shooting awake, her body pulsing and hot. 

When she saw him, her body would grow warm and uncomfortable, so she found excuses to be away. Neither her heart nor her body could tolerate the sight of him.

Two weeks passed before Lena returned, and she did so in a dramatic way, appearing with a flash of light on the deck of the Prydwen.

Ellen was away at the time, but when she returned to the airport with material one day, a gossipy scribe was eager to fill her in, before informing her that she was to report to the Prydwen for a meeting as soon as she arrived. 

She made her way to her quarters, power armour and all, to retrieve her bomber jacket. She put it on then dropped her armour in the armour bay before heading to the meeting room, her thick jacket hiding the worst of her bump, she hoped. She slid into the seat and tucked herself into the table, looking to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily, their attention was all drawn to Lena, who was sharing her experience in the Institute.

“It’s mostly occupied by civilian scientists and their families. They are not hostile and would rather be left alone. I was given a tour of the facility and spent several days in each department reviewing their projects and goals. They’ve built their facility beneath the old CIT ruins and don’t intend any harm to anyone above ground. I have teleportation access to the majority of the facility, as things stand right now. Can I suggest that I be allowed to come and go, in the hopes of securing more information?”

Quinlan agreed, but Arthur didn’t respond to her request. He told Lena to be ready to hand in a detailed written report by noon the next day. He then dismissed her, telling her to get some dinner and rest. She didn’t have clearance for the remainder of the meeting. 

Once she was gone, Proctor Quinlan spoke up. “At my request, Knight MacKenzie has downloaded a substantial amount of data from the Institute mainframe. Although a cursory glance indicates it’s mostly Synth Retention data, I believe in-depth analysis may uncover some useful information. I request an additional scribe to assist me in this task.”

“Agreed,” said Arthur. Scribe Haylen is due for a rotation up to the Prydwen, I will assign her to you.”

Quinlan nodded and made a note, and then continued. 

“I have also found a lead on the required weapons for Liberty prime. The good news is there should be more than enough for what we have planned. The bad news, is that the stockpile is in the Glowing Sea.”

“Do we have any way to retrieve them?”

“I believe a vertibird should be able to drop someone nearby, and once they secure the stockpile, we can return to airlift them out. Proctor Ingram has made some significant improvements to the vertibirds to allow them access to the Glowing Sea for short periods of time, but we would need a few more days. Perhaps a week. Meanwhile, we still require a few other components for Liberty Prime itself.”

“Agreed,” Arthur said. A few more items were discussed before the meeting wrapped up. Arthur was the first one out the door when it wrapped up. Ellen supposed he was anticipating his reunion with Lena. 

Ellen returned to her quarters, eager to clean up. She was still dirty from the field and was interested in a shower more than anything else. After she cleaned up, she headed to the power armour bay to give her armour a once over while she had the chance. Lena found her there a short time later. 

Ellen stood to wipe her hands and give Lena a hug in greeting. 

“Proctor Ingram is still looking for two high powered magnets. I think I know a couple places we can check. Did you want to go tomorrow?” Lena asked. “If you’re still working.”

“I haven’t told them yet,” Ellen said. “Let’s go.”

“Great! Are you almost done yet for the day? I thought we could grab supper and I could fill you in on Shaun!”

Ellen was excited to hear what had become of the boy. Lena didn’t seem upset, but the child was nowhere to be seen, either.

They made their way to the mess, and once they were seated, Lena filled her in. It had been not ten but sixty years since Shaun had been taken. He was an old man now, and sick. “He doesn’t have much time left. He can’t leave the Institute, but I can visit any time I like.”

“I’m so sorry, Lena,” 

“I am just glad I got to spend this time with him. El, the Institute is really remarkable. It’s clean, and advanced. I wish I could bring you there. It would be such a great place to raise your child. Much better than here.”

Ellen laughed. Lena had to be joking. But the look on her face soon wiped the smile off her face. 

“You’re not serious! The Brotherhood is my family. It’s been for years.”

There was a pause. “Of course not. I understand. It was just a thought.”

They changed the subject, but while Lena went on about how smart her son was, how he looked so much like her late father, Ellen only sat in silence.

* * *

They left the next day to find the magnets. The first one was found without much difficulty, but the second was located in a building that took them several days to search. Ellen was frustrated by their lack of progress, and was having some difficulty in moving, all of which was weighing on her mood. The second night, Lena offered to take the first watch so Ellen could get some sleep. 

Ellen agreed, gratefully, and after eating she laid down on her bedroll.

Exhausted, she quickly fell asleep, but the kicks and rolls in her belly and the sudden need to pee soon woke her again, so she got up to find a spot to relieve herself. To her surprise, Lena was nowhere to be seen. She took care of her personal needs quickly, then went looking for her companion. Coming around a corner, she thought she heard voices down the hallway, a woman and a man, so she walked that way. She was near the source of the voices when there was a flash of light and a whiff of sulphur from under a closed door, and a moment later it suddenly opened, and Lena emerged. 

She startled when she saw Ellen. 

“Oh! I just thought I heard a noise, but it was radroaches. What are you doing up?”

“I had to go to the bathroom.” 

“Oh that’s the _worst,_ isn’t it?” Lena closed the door behind her, and they started the walk back down the hall to where they had bedded down for the night. “I remember with Shaun, sometimes it felt like he was using my bladder for a springboard. And it’s never enough. Ten seconds later you have to pee again.”

Ellen laughed. Yeah, she already needed to go. 

Once Ellen had returned again, they decided to switch watches. Lena laid down to sleep, and Ellen sat by the entrance and listened to the creaks and groans of the old building. 

She looked over at Lena, asleep on the bedroll, and frowned. She had been certain she’d heard another voice. And Lena’s excuse that it had been radroaches didn’t quite make sense. If she’d shot something, the flash from the Brotherhood issued laser rifle would have been red. The flash Ellen had seen had been a cold, white-blue. 

As much as she hated the idea of going behind her friend’s back, this was something that needed to be brought to the Elder’s attention.


	20. Eyes Wide Open

Arthur was on the Command Deck when Ellen boarded the Prydwen. She quickly disposed of her power armour and changed into a bulky set of fatigues before heading down to the observation room. She took a deep breath before going in.

“Elder Maxson,” she said, standing at attention while she waited for him to turn around and acknowledge her. When he did, she continued. “Something has come to my attention. May I request that we speak privately, Sir?”

“Anything you need to say can be said here, Paladin.”

“It’s not...no, sir. I believe what I have to say should be classified. I believe we should speak in your office, Sir.”

He regarded her for a moment before nodding. “Fine, Paladin. Follow me.”

Relieved, Ellen trailed behind him to his quarters. Once inside, she closed the door and looked around. She hadn’t been inside since the day the Prydwen launched. It looked different with some of his personal items scattered around, things she recognized from his suite at the Citadel. She fingered the chessboard on the table before turning to him.

“It’s about Knight MacKenzie.”

Arthur let out a frustrated huff and ran his hands through his hair. “Ellen, you said this wasn’t personal.”

“It’s not, Arthur, I swear. I don’t want to come between you. Despite everything, she’s been a good friend to me. I thought she was a good friend to me. I’ve never even told her about… about us. I don’t think she would have pursued a relationship with you in that case. This is not about that.”

“What am I supposed to think, Ellen? You pull me aside and the first thing you bring up is Lena.”

“I don’t trust her, Arthur. There’s something going on.”

“You’re making a pretty bold accusation. I expect you have something to back it up other than petty jealousy.”

“I’m not fucking jealous, Arthur. You need to listen to me. I don’t say this lightly because like I said, she’d been a good friend. But there is something. Going. On.” Ellen took a deep breath. She was angry enough to throw something right now and that wasn’t going the help her argument.

Arthur folded his arms across his chest and leaned on the table, calm suddenly, his eyebrow cocked. Everything about him screamed amused indulgence, but she knew better. He was spitting mad right now. She took another breath, calming her nerves. 

“I think I heard her talking to someone.”

“You think?”

“I didn’t see, but I am sure of what I heard.” She explained the incident to him, as well as a somewhat edited version of the conversation she’d had the other day about Lena’s admiration for the Institute. 

“That’s not a lot of solid evidence, Ellen. Paladin.”

“I’m not saying we should throw her in the brig, Arthur. I just think we need to keep an eye on her. Maybe restrict her access to sensitive data.”

“I suppose that’s fair. But if it had been anyone else but you bringing this to me-”

“If it had been anyone else, you would have listened instead of throwing around personal accusations.”

Arthur straightened and turned to his cabinet, removing a bottle and pouring a glass. He offered it to Ellen but she refused. He took a sip and then set it down, turning back to her again. 

She could smell the whiskey in the room and the memory of the hours spent together hit her like a mini nuke. Heat flooded between her legs and she inhaled sharply, hoping to clear her mind, but instead she could smell not only the whiskey, but also _him,_ the familiar warm smell of him coursing through her body. She glanced at the bed, then carefully avoided his eyes, wishing she’d taken the drink so at least she’d have something to hold. 

“I was going to send her to retrieve the nukes from Sentinel Site Prescott, along with Paladin Wilson, since they have experience in that area. But I think I will send you instead.”

“I can’t, I-”

“Why not, Paladin? Who better than you to keep an eye on our Knight? I’d prefer not to drag anyone else into this situation until it’s resolved. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She could tell him right now about her condition. Tell him she was less than three months away from having his child. She opened her mouth to say something, but in the end, she couldn’t do it. Their lives - hers, Arthur’s, and the whole Brotherhood’s - rested on Ellen’s assessment of Lena. She couldn’t trust that job to anyone else. 

“Fine, Sir. I’ll go.”

* * *

The mission was to go to Sentinel Site Prescott via vertibird, secure the site, and then wait for the vertibird to return for pickup. Ellen wrestled herself into her power armour with some difficulty, then boarded the vertibird for the trip into the glowing sea. 

She didn’t look at Lena as they went, nor did she try to talk. The noise from the rotors and their power armour helmets made communication near impossible.

Once they landed, Ellen led the way into the building. It was infested with ghouls, but large enough and scattered enough that they had little difficulty taking them out one by one. The missile storage facility was easily accessed, and they had a little over two hours until the vertibird was due to return. 

According to her sensors, the area was free of radiation, so Ellen decided to leave her armour, stepping out of it near the elevator. It was pressing painfully on her stomach, and she needed a minute to breathe. She wrinkled her nose at the faint sulpher smell of the place and waited for Lena to leave her armour before they started counting the rows of nukes. 

About twenty minutes had passed before Ellen realized she had lost sight of Lena. Dropping her task, she went in search of her, walking down the rows of bombs. She didn’t call her name. It was quiet in the facility and she was sure Lena was nearby.

She came around a corner and found Lena standing in the dim light between two rows of bombs. She opened her mouth to greet her but only then did she notice the leather clad form of a particularly tall courser standing near her. By the time she realized they were talking, it was too late. She had been spotted.

“Ahh, shit,” Lena exclaimed. 

Ellen didn’t wait. She didn’t know what the courser would do to her if he caught her, but she wasn’t going to wait to find out. She began to run back to her armour, but she quickly grew breathless. She fired her rifle in the air, hitting one of the bombs, which rolled into several of its mates before they all fell into the aisle. Hopefully that would slow them down. 

She could hear them struggling to get over the obstacle as she made it to her armour. She had left them far enough behind that she couldn’t hear what they were saying, although it wasn’t long before she heard Lena’s voice and the courser’s deeper one getting closer.

Her armour opened and she stepped inside, pressing the button for the hatch. It came halfway down and then stuck, popping back up again.

She tried again. She could hear them getting closer, but the suit refused to close again, and after a third malfunction with her stomach sucked in as far as it would go, she gave up and ran for the elevator in just her flight suit. 

The room below slid out of view just as the courser rounded the corner, and she just caught a glimpse of his black hair before she was out of sight. She could hear them below, trying to stop the lift. Anxious, Ellen looked around, hoping for an escape route if the lift should stop, but thankfully, she made it to the top, hopping out before it headed back down. It wouldn’t be long before they caught up to her. 

There was an exit nearby and she managed to unlock it with the terminal just as the lift began its ascent. She ran outside, looking for something to block it with, but the only thing was the terminal. She shot it, and to her relief, she heard the bolts in the door shut. She looked around. She was on the roof. It would take forever for them to get back down and out again the way they had gone in. The vertibird would be there before then. 

It was only then that she glanced up at the sky, and noticed that there was nothing to shelter her from the heavy, rolling, sulphur yellow clouds above.

* * *

She had to pee.

That was what woke her up, not the nausea, or the headache, or the beep of the IV monitor. 

She opened her eyes. She was in the Prydwen’s medical bay, and Arthur was there.

And he did not look happy.

Her movement must have alerted him, because he stood. “Cade,” he barked, and the medic turned around.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she croaked.

“You have a catheter in. You don’t have to go,” he told her. 

Her hand shot to her stomach.

“Baby’s fine, Ellen.” Cade said. “We’ve run a full battery of tests, and he’s alive and kicking. And you will be too, after a few more doses of radaway.” He glanced between her and Arthur. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said, before slipping out the door.

She looked at Arthur. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath through his nose. “Why didn’t you tell me, Ellen?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t have a good reason. A dozen excuses rolled through her head, that he’d cut her off when he’d first arrived, his relationship with Lena, but nothing really excused her behaviour. “I don’t know,” she said again. 

“Why were you on the roof without any protection? You could have been killed. Oh, fuck, El, why?” 

And then Arthur Maxson did something she’d never seen him do in all the years she’d known him. 

He let out a sob.

She lifted her hand and he got up, bending over her and laying his head on her chest. She stroked his hair until his shoulders stopped shaking, and when he finally calmed down, he sat up and pulled his chair close, holding her hand tightly. 

“What happened,” he finally asked.

She explained about the courser and Lena, and how she hadn’t been able to get into her armour in time. He told her that the vertibird pilot had found her on the roof and brought her straight back, but when the next pilot went, there was no sign of Lena.

“I never should have sent you there,” he said. “I never should have trusted someone like that, someone I just met.”

“I trusted her too, Arthur. She was my friend.” Her belly rolled and her hand shot down to rest there. She breathed a sigh of relief. Despite what Cade had said, she hadn’t fully believed him until she felt it move.

Arthur’s eyes widened. “Do you want to feel?” she asked.

He nodded, so she took his hand and placed it on her belly. They both waited, breathless, and then finally it came. A big, rippling roll as their child turned inside her.

Arthur turned to her, his face lit up like Christmas. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only got up to chapter 26 finished and I've been somewhat blocked for a couple months so I'm actually panicking, especially with what I have being so close to the end. But this was a good chapter and I really like it, and the next one is even better, so hopefully that will help if I don't get my act together soon!


	21. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen and Arthur have a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to everyone in the comments screaming that Ellen and Arthur need to talk.

Ellen was back in her own room the next day. She half worried that Arthur would ask her to come stay with him, but he seemed satisfied to have her next door. She wasn’t really sure where they stood. He’d left her to sleep shortly after they had talked, and they hadn’t had any time alone together since then. 

She knew they needed time, and she didn’t know if he even wanted to give her a chance after everything that had happened. Furthermore, they hadn’t even discussed her ongoing search for clues about the attack on Danse. They’d been through so much, she wasn’t even sure their relationship could be repaired. 

She found him in the mess hall a few days later, his nose buried in a book. She looked at him in a way she hadn’t really looked at him since the Citadel. Since before she’d lost Danse, if she was honest with herself. 

His scar was still bold on his face, but not as red as it used to be. It was beginning to whiten near the edges and fade, although it would never go away entirely. His brows were drawn down as he concentrated on what he was reading, and he absently rubbed at his beard and the back of his neck.

He licked his lips as he turned the page, and she was shocked at the intensity of the heat that flooded her body. 

She must have made a sound because he looked up and smiled at her, waving her over. She sat down with him, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Her breasts felt heavy and full, and her pussy almost throbbed. She was suddenly, painfully aware of every inch of her body. She blinked, trying to ground herself, and her eyes fell on the book he had just closed.

“What are you reading,” she asked.

He pushed the book towards her. “Pregnancy and Childbirth: A Handy Guide.” She flipped it over. “Published by General Atomics, makers of the Mr. Handy and Miss Nanny lines of Fine Household Robots”

She laughed. “I don’t think this is the most reliable source of information.”

“It’s all we had on board. I asked the scribes to keep an eye out in their travels, though.” He took a bite of his breakfast. “How are you feeling?” 

“Good,” she said, avoiding his eyes. He was asking about her health, not her libido. 

He put his fork down and looked at her. “Ellen, I know we have had problems. I…maybe I shouldn’t have tried to shut you out. Pretend we were nothing but ranks and orders. But even if I wanted to do that now, it’s not an option. We need to find a way to be parents together, if nothing else.”

Parents. Ellen didn’t reply, but she knew he was right.

“Do you want to go for a walk? The weather is nice, and the view is great from the forecastle.”

She agreed, so he took her hand and helped her to her feet, and they walked together through the corridors to the forecastle door. It was nice out. The sun was shining and the water below shone blue. It seemed safe up here, so far from the turmoil below. She leaned on the railing and looked down. Arthur came and stood beside her, and she could feel the warmth of his body beside her. She wanted to curl into him, seek reassurance from his strength.

“The weather here is weird. It’s moody,” he remarked. She turned to look at him. “Back home, it’s grey all the time. It almost never rains. Sometimes the sun peeks through for a minute and you feel blessed. But here. It’s nice one minute, pouring the next. And then before you know it again the sun is out but it’s so damp and hot you can’t even breathe.”

“And then the radstorms. I hate those.”

“Me too. I never thought I would miss those grey skies, but I do. It’s like a security blanket I guess. Is that stupid?”

“No. I know what you mean.”

“I have to remind myself that that’s why we’re here. To keep our home safe. That’s always been my goal. And I haven’t been successful. I feel like instead of protecting people, I’m just always avenging them.”

“Arthur…” She put her hand on his arm. He turned to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. I’m sorry for rushing things after… after Danse died. I wanted to keep you safe. I didn’t want to lose anyone else.”

“I didn’t feel rushed, Arthur. But you were so quick to forget about him and move on, I didn’t have anyone to talk to.”

“How did you get through when Cutler died?”

“I don’t know. I had Danse. It was harder on him than on me, they were together longer. Way before I came along. Danse always joked that he couldn’t remember a time before he knew Chey. And after he was gone, we talked and talked about him. In some ways it was like he was still there with us, you know?”

“We never talked about Danse, you and I. Not like that.”

“It wasn’t the same, though. You didn’t love him like I did.”

“That’s not true, Ellen. Other than you, he’s the only person I have ever been able to talk to. He’s saved my life a thousand times. He was the other piece of my heart and I miss him every single day. I wonder all the time what could have been if I hadn’t put him in danger. But I can’t bring him back. All I can do is keep this from happening again.”

“Oh Arthur, the whole world doesn’t have to rest on you.”

He sighed, hanging his head heavily. He turned to look out over the Commonwealth. “A great deal of evidence points to the contrary,” he said. 

“You aren’t alone though. You have the whole Brotherhood at your back. When I was nineteen, I lost my the only home I’d ever known, and I lost my father too. And then the radio started calling me ‘Lone Wanderer’ because I managed to get to the radio station by myself. But I almost died, if it weren’t for the Brotherhood. Without the Brotherhood, the Capital Wasteland wouldn’t be thriving and the people here wouldn’t stand a chance against the Institute. It was here before us and it will be here when we’re gone.”

“Are you honestly trying to make me feel better by making me feel small and unimportant?”

“Is it working?”

Arthur snorted. “A little.”

“Good,” Ellen laughed. “Every once in a while someone needs to poke a hole in your over-inflated sense of self-importance.”

Arthur laughed out loud at that, and Ellen smiled, happy to see him look more relaxed than he had in so long. She looked up at him, her heart welling up with love.

He picked up her hand and squeezed it, and she squeezed back. “You know I need you,” he said. “You keep me grounded. But I don’t want to rush things like before. Maybe we can start over.”

“Learn to get to know each other?” Ellen asked.

“And learn to talk a bit more.”

“That sounds good to me. Starting over.” She stuck out her hand. “Hi. I’m Eleanore Catherine MacKay, but everyone just calls me Ellen.”

He took her hand and shook it. “Arthur Maxson. Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel. I am descended from Roger Maxson, leader of our great order.” He lifted his head to the sky and raised his arm in proclamation. “They say my soul was forged from Eternal Steel-”

Ellen poked him in the ribs. “Oh shut up,” she said, laughing.

* * *

They talked a little while longer before heading back inside. They were going down the gangway when a scribe ran up to them. 

“Elder Maxson, the Institute is attacking the settlement at Bunker Hill. There are soldiers already there, but they are calling for reinforcements.”

“Send two armed squads from the airport, and ready a vertibird for me.”

The scribe ran off. “I’m coming with you,” Ellen said. 

“Your power armour is still in the Glowing Sea. You’re staying here.”

“I’ll stay on the vertibird until the fighting stops. Arthur-”

“No. And don’t make me pull rank on you, Paladin. I thought we were done with that.”

Ellen glared at him and he glared back. 

“Fine,” he gave in. “But you will remain on the vertibird until the fighting is done, and you will be in full combat armour. And at the slightest sign of danger, the pilot will have orders to return you to the Prydwen, is that clear?”

“That’s fair,” she said. “I’ll meet you there.”

* * *

Arthur waited for her, and they departed nearly half an hour after the majority of the troops. By the time they arrived, the fighting had been quelled. Arthur jumped out of the vertibird and Ellen followed. Paladin Knowles greeted them.

“Report, Paladin,” Arthur said.

“Yes sir,” she said. “When we arrived, there were dozens of synths attacking the settlement, so we called in reinforcements. It appears there was actually a third group involved as well. Although we were unable to capture any of their number, their objective seemed to be freeing a group of escaped synths. The Institute combatants were after the same group of synths, apparently they were trying to retrieve them. The synth party was led by a courser, who escaped, as well as someone else, sir.”

“I suppose it was Knight MacKenzie?”

“Yes, sir. The good news is, we’ve captured her.” 

Ellen and Arthur shared a glance. “Bring her here,” he said.

A moment later, Lena was brought to them. She was held by two knights. Arthur stepped forward and pulled Ellen behind him, but Ellen moved back by his side.

Lena looked back and forth between Ellen and Arthur, her eyes widening briefly with dawning realization.”

“I’m sorry, Ellen,” she said. “I had no choice. This situation is more complicated than you know.”

“It isn’t complicated at all,” Arthur snapped. “You have committed treason and joined the enemy. You will be brought back to the Prydwen for a trial, and when you’re found guilty, you will be sentenced accordingly. I suppose I should be grateful that your true allegiance is now obvious--”

He stopped talking as he was interrupted by a blinding flash of light. A courser appeared. He was tall, well over six feet, with thick black hair, and a very familiar scar over his eyebrow. Without glancing at Ellen or Arthur, he took Lena by the arm, and then in a flash of light, both of them vanished.


	22. Synth Retention

“Tell me I imagined that, Arthur. Tell me that was some kind of weird, pregnancy induced hallucination.”

“I don’t think it was, Ellen.” He turned to Paladin Knowles.

“Was that… was that Paladin Danse, Sir?”

“I don’t know, Paladin,” Arthur said. “He sure looked like him.” He glanced around. Nobody else seemed to have taken notice of the event. “Paladin, Knights, this is not to be mentioned, nor discussed, not even in reports, until further notice. This is an order, is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” they all echoed. 

He turned to Ellen. “Paladin MacKay, with me. We need to have a closer look at that holotape.”

Ellen nodded and followed him back to the vertibird. She took her seat and looked out over the crowd. Her eye caught on a bald head in the back. The man was dressed inconspicuously in a blue jacket and sunglasses, but she thought she recognized him from Greenetech. “Arthur,” she said, turning to him. But when she looked back, the man was gone.

* * *

Proctor Quinlan and Scribe Haylen had reviewed the holotape Lena had brought back from the Institute, but had found very little of use. The majority of the data seemed to be synth retention, and the scant data on facilities was limited to a rough map of the facility which marked future expansion to the power grid. 

“Have you compared this data to Brotherhood records, Proctor?” Ellen asked. 

“I did. I had the computer run a check between the synth records and the DNA of everyone on the Prydwen. I was concerned because I had heard rumours that some synths had replaced certain people in the Commonwealth, but I was relieved to find no matches. 

Ellen looked at the computer. “These are synth retention records, not agents. These are escaped synths. Have you run the records against the entire Brotherhood roster?”

“No, Paladin. We don’t have those records here.”

“We need agent records,” Arthur said.

“No we don’t,” Ellen replied. “I think this is what we need. I might need to go through this line by line.” She sat down without asking and told Proctor Quinlan, “I’m going to use your terminal.”

* * *

Three hours later, Ellen stretched. Arthur had long ago left to take care of other tasks, leaving her alone. She had been going through the list of synths for hours. She had tried sorting the data several different ways to zero in on what she needed, but the Institute data didn’t want to play nicely with the Brotherhood terminal, so most of what she tried caused the terminal to crash. In the end, she resorted to opening each synth’s file one at a time.

It was exhausting and tedious, and her eyes were starting to blur. She was beginning to worry she might miss something, so she took a break and stretched. Her tummy rolled and bulged when she moved, so she patted it gently. “I guess we should get you some supper, little one, and go see how Dad is doing.” She liked the sound of that so she said it again. “Let’s go see your Dad.”

She was still smiling when she reached the Command Deck. Arthur was reading a report, but he looked up when she arrived. “Did you find anything useful?” he asked.

“Not yet. I just needed a break.”

She took a step towards him but stopped when the room suddenly erupted in a bright flash of blue-white light.

When her eyes cleared, she saw Lena standing there. Arthur surged to his feet, but she raised her hands and said, “Relax, Arthur. I’m just here to talk.”

He eyed her suspiciously, but stopped where he stood. “Where’s your courser bodyguard?” he asked. 

“I left it somewhere else. I came alone as a gesture of good faith.” She looked between Arthur and Ellen. “First off, Arthur, I wanted to offer best wishes on your pending arrival,” she said, indicating Ellen. His eyebrows lowered but he let her continue. “Perhaps that will make what I’m going to tell you a little easier. I told you my son was in the Institute, and that he is old and sick. But what I didn’t tell you is that he is the Director of the Institute. And he’s named me as his successor.”

“Director.” Arthur said, with a tone of disbelief. 

“As such,” Lena continued, “I’m prepared to offer you- the Brotherhood- a deal. You take your army, and your airship, and leave the Commonwealth, and in return, we’ll stop sending coursers and synths to the Capital Wasteland.”

“No,” said Arthur. 

“Look, Arthur, I’m just trying to save lives here. There’s no need for pointless bloodshed. Your vendetta against the Institute has got to stop.”

Ellen spoke up. “They already stopped sending coursers, Lena. Once they got what they came for. That doesn’t help the people of the Commonwealth to grow and recover if we leave you here to terrorize them and meddle in their affairs.”

Lena sighed. “I did what I had to for my family. To keep them safe. I was hoping you would understand that. But I am starting think it was a mistake coming here. I had hoped… I hoped with our previous relationship that we could mend fences and come to an agreement.”

“Personal relationship or no, I can’t overlook treason, Lena. Your days are numbered. Yours and the Institute’s. Now get out.”

Lena looked at him for a long moment, frowning, and then she sighed. She stepped up to him, placed her hand on his face, and said. “For what it’s worth, Arthur, I truly did care for you.” She turned to Ellen. “And you too. You were a good friend when I really needed one. Farewell.” 

And then she stepped back, touched something on her Pipboy, and vanished.

* * *

Late that night, Elllen was pretty sure she had found what she was looking for. The file had a grainy photo that looked a lot like Danse back when they had first met, DNA records, and the notation: 

**M7-97. Mssg. Esc: 06/09/2274 Rec: 03/16/2286**

It wasn’t much to go on, but the face matched, and so did the recovery day… the very day Danse had been lost. 

It was too late to wake Arthur, it would have to wait until the morning. She closed the synth file and looked at the computer, rubbing her face. She was almost too tired to get up. She stared at the screen for a moment, then idly opened the facilities data. It was mostly a layout of the electrical grid. She looked at the generators for a moment, then clicked the keyboard to expand the size of the map. She frowned, tipping her head to one side. Now that didn’t make sense. 

She grabbed a piece of paper and started to make some calculations.

* * *

Ellen was exhausted the next morning, but she ignored it, grabbing a muffin before heading to Arthur’s quarters and knocking on the door. She heard a thump and a shuffling sound before the door finally opened and Arthur stood there, his coat hastily thrown on over his bare chest and his hair rumpled from sleep.

Even in her exhausted state, her body heated up at the sight of him. She ignored it and walked past him, setting a stack of papers on the table. “I think I know where they are going to go next,” she told him.

“Have you been up all night?” he asked. “El, you need to sleep.”

“I can sleep later. This is important.”

“Did you find out about Danse?” 

“I’ll get to that, but this first. Look.” 

She laid out a bunch of papers with numbers and lines on them.

“What am I looking at?” he asked, rubbing his face. 

“This is the Institute’s power grid. When Lena brought us the data, she brought us nonessential systems only. This is a map of the power grid from six months ago.”

“I don’t see why this matters.”

“Because look. They only have this much power, for this much space. Including labs, living quarters, and most importantly, several relay rooms. They must have brownouts all the time. They are going to need something bigger. They can’t mine, they scavenge like everyone else. So I looked around the Commonwealth and I found this.” She pulled out another map.

“Mass Fusion?”

“They have an experimental generator there that’s small, but creates enough power to run their facility for decades. It’s been powering a good chunk of the city, including Goodneighbor and Diamond City.”

“If we get there first…”

“It’s not ours, Arthur. We aren’t here to take things from these people. But if we can stop them, maybe we can use it to charge Liberty Prime’s cells. And maybe if Lena shows up…”

“Maybe she won’t be alone.”

Ellen nodded. “Which brings me to this.” She handed him a small slip of paper.

“Danse,” Arthur breathed.

“Yes. I think he was a synth the whole time. It looks like he escaped years ago. The coursers must have located him and been trying to retrieve him, and once they found him, they let off.”

“Why would they come all that way for one synth?”

“I was thinking about that. Remember I put in my report about that civilian who helped me with the courser chip? Well he told me that the only reason the Institute would go that far for an escaped synth was if he was important, or if there were more than one. I’d say a missing courser is pretty important, wouldn’t you?”

“Are you saying you think Danse was a courser?”

“ _Is_ a courser, Arthur. They recovered him and put him back to work.”

“But he didn’t seem like a robot, Ellen. Especially not a malfunctioning one. I mean he.. you…”

“They aren’t robots, Arthur. That’s the point. They are people. They are grown in a lab, but they are flesh and blood people. And the Institute is using them like slaves. They don’t malfunction. They escape. Even coursers. Deacon said he knew of at least three coursers who had defected. What if Danse was one of them? We have to get him out alive. If he escaped once, maybe we can… I don’t know… help him figure out who he is, or was? Maybe we can get him back.”

“Ellen, coursers are dangerous.”

“I know. But we have to try.”

* * *

To Ellen’s dismay, she was absolutely barred from leaving the Prydwen. But to be fair, she couldn’t fit any armour at all any more, and even walking got her out of breath. Plus she had to pee about every thirty seconds, it seemed, so she was happy to stay on board. 

Arthur had soldiers stationed on every level of the Mass fusion building, disguised as mercenaries, waiting for any sign of synth activity. All robotic synths were to be killed on sight, and he had issued strict orders to disable rather than kill any humans, human-like synths, or coursers. 

The signal came two days later. Arthur departed immediately, leaving Ellen to pace the hallways anxiously, waiting for any word. Finally he arrived, tired and dirty, but with no sign of Danse. 

He headed to his quarters, and she followed, waiting until he closed the door before asking him for any news.

“We got him. It was hard. It took six syringer rounds to take him down. But he’s sedated in an office on the ground floor at Mass Fusion, under heavy guard. We can’t wake him up, or he’ll just teleport away.”

“Can I see him?”

“It’s too dangerous, El.”

She flopped onto the couch, realizing belatedly she was going to get stuck there. She rubbed her belly absently. Arthur came and sat next to her, and after a raised eyebrow from him and a nod from her, he rested his hand on her belly. 

“He’s not doing anything.”

“Maybe she’s asleep,” Ellen chided. She poked herself in the side of her stomach and they were rewarded with a rolling movement as the baby shifted. 

“That’s so weird,” he commented. He placed his other hand on her tummy and waited until there was another movement.

“It’s even weirder from the inside. Sometimes they get hiccups.”

“No. Really?”

“Yes.”

Arthur laughed and pressed a kiss to her belly, before sitting back. Ellen sighed. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to rip her pants off and fuck her, if she was honest, which was confusing because she didn’t feel sexy in the slightest. She just thought about fucking a lot the last few weeks. 

She shook her head, trying to get back to the subject at hand.

“I think the doctor at the Memory Den in Goodneighbor can help,” she said.

“With the baby?” Arthur looked confused.

“No. With Danse. She said they can relive memories, or block them there. They might be able to help with Danse, see if they can remove any blocks he might have.”

“Goodneighbor hasn’t exactly been welcoming to Brotherhood soldiers. I doubt it would go well if a squad showed up with a sedated courser.”

“Yeah, that won’t work. But I think I know someone who can help, if you will let me off this ship.”

“I can’t let you do that, El.”

“You come with me. We’ll dress in civilian clothes, and then we’ll take a walk on the Freedom Trail.”

* * *

Against his better judgement, Arthur agreed, although they had two knights with them as well as they followed the red path through downtown Boston. Once they reached the Old North Church, the knights departed and Ellen and Arthur entered together. 

In the catacombs, they were greeted by a welcoming committee consisting of a minigun and some bright spotlights, but to Ellen’s relief, Deacon appeared behind the armed guard and attest for them. The leader, Desdemona, was skeptical, but after they explained what they wanted to do, she gave Deacon permission to go with them to Goodneighbor and vouch for them.

“You’re giving the Brotherhood a lot of dangerous information,” Desdemona told Deacon.

“I just got a good feeling on this one, boss,” he said. “When have I ever steered you wrong?”

Judging by the look on Desdemona’s face, there were a lot of times.

Once they were back outside, Deacon offered to go ahead to Goodneighbor, and Arthur agreed. Once Deacon had departed, Arthur turned to Ellen. “I am going to call a vertibird to bring you to the Prydwen. We got what we needed, for now, and it’s safer there.”

“...Arthur, this isn’t fair.”

“It’s safer.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “If this turns out to be a mistake, I want to know you are not in any danger.”

He was right, although she hated to admit it. Begrudgingly, she agreed, He brought her to where the knights were waiting, and signalled for a vertibird. He accompanied her back to the Prydwen, and after helping her down, he climbed back aboard and departed.


	23. Fidelity, Uncovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's Chapter II

Arthur let out a sigh of relief when the vertibird pulled away from the Prydwen. He had half expected Ellen to jump back on board out of desperation, but he simply couldn’t allow that. He’d been there when the courser had been brought down, and he had seen how he had killed two Brotherhood knights and taken four of the six syringer shots before he had even slowed down.

He had left Paladin Knowles and the knights from Bunker Hill who had already seen the courser in charge at the Mass Fusion building. They greeted him when he walked through the door to the office where he was being kept. He was restrained and sedated, with a lead-lined Brotherhood power armour helmet on his head, not only to prevent identification, but also in hopes that should he awaken, it would prevent communication with the Institute.

He took the helmet off and looked at the courser. He was dressed in an armoured leather coat, obviously not from the wasteland. His hair was cropped close to his head and he was clean-shaven, but the familiar scars and lines of the man he’d known for so long were still there. Without a doubt, it was Danse. Arthur reached out as though to touch him, but pulled his hand back at the last moment. He’d thought about it, back before Danse had vanished, about touching him. Sliding his hands into his hair and running his fingers over his face. But it felt wrong to even have these thoughts now. He had a hard time reconciling what he was looking at now with the man he had known for so long. 

However, he still had to get him into Goodneighbor. Luckily, it was quite close, only a five minute walk away. He bent and slung the sedated courser over his shoulders in a rescue hold, and made his way outside and towards Goodneighbor.

By the time he arrived, he was sweaty and out of breath, and was wishing he had brought his power armour and left his heavy coat behind. But there was nothing he could do about it now. Deacon greeted him at the gates and held the door for him, then led the way to the Memory Den on the opposite side of town. 

The doctor Ellen had mentioned, Doctor Amari, did not look pleased. She snapped at Deacon. “You told me this was a regular synth, not a courser. And why is the Brotherhood here?”

“He was with the Brotherhood for some years, and I have data from the Institute that states he was lost and recovered, not a spy.”

“So are you trying to get information from him? You can’t access minds that don’t want to be accessed.”

“No. I just want to… I hope he can remember who he was. He was my friend.”

Doctor Amari sighed. There’s no guarantees. If he’s been blocked, there’s a chance that walking him through his repressed memories might remove the block, but then again, this could all go wrong and we could have a very pissed off courser on our hands.”

“What do you mean walk him through his memories?”

“I don’t know if it will work. Sometimes we implant false memories to override what’s there, but we can’t actually erase minds. Neither can the Institute, although the memory they plant is just the idea of being born. The real memories are there. Escaped synths often escape more than once, and they sometimes find their way back into similar occupations. So we’ll put him in the memory lounger, and then we can connect it with someone else. It would work best with someone he knows, it might help trigger his memories.”

“He knows me.”

“All right then. But Deacon is armed and if there is even the slightest hint of trouble, he’s going to pull the trigger.”

If Arthur got out of this memory device to find Danse shot, he was going to wring everyone’s neck in this room. But he didn’t say that. He just nodded and took the seat indicated.

There was a humming noise and Doctor Amari’s voice telling him to relax, then everything faded to white, and he was somewhere else. 

Someone else.

* * *

“Hello, I’m new here,” M7-97 said. The small person in white directed him through the door and he went there. Curious. He knew it was a door. He knew his name. He looked at things, he knew them. Person. White. Door. 

Inside was another person. He was also small. All people were small, M7-97 concluded. “Hello, I’m new here,” he said. He knew how to talk. And walk.

The new person smiled. “I am also new. I am waiting. I am M7-96. I came before you.” 

That was a good conclusion. 

“We are waiting for the person,” 96 said. 97 decided to wait too.

The person came. She was small, confirming 97’s suspicions that every person was small. “You’re big,” she said. “You’ll make a good courser.”

* * *

97 was tired. The humans told the synths that they didn’t need sleep, but he did need sleep, and had to sneak somewhere to rest. 96 was tired too. 96 did work in the underground tunnels, while 97 had to train every day to be a courser. They told him that he needed to be loyal, to learn to hunt. That the other synths were his enemy. Maybe that was true, but 96 was not his enemy. 

97 liked looking at 96. He was slim, and had brown skin and black hair and laughed all the time, when the humans weren’t looking. He made 97 laugh too. But 96 was tired today. Sometimes they left together to rest, and he would lay with his arms around 96 and wish he could keep him safe, that they could go somewhere to talk and laugh together. 

“How are you, 97?” 96 asked. 

“I’m worried. They are giving me the chip tomorrow, so I can access the relay. I heard they don’t make you sleep first, just cut your head, so I am a little afraid.”   
96 held his hand. “Just imagine I’m there with you.”

* * *

M7-96 was the fifth escaped synth 97 was tasked with finding, and he found his friend easily, huddled in the damp basement of a ruined house. The recall code burned in his mind, the conditioning, the hard months of training screaming at him to do his duty, but he looked at 96, the first person who had ever smiled at him, and he knew he had to let him go.

“Come with me, 97.” 96 held out his hand, and 97 took it.

* * *

“I can give you a new identity here, but even a face change won’t help you. You’re tall, you stick out like a sore thumb. But there’s a doctor in Washington who can help.”

* * *

M7-97 looked at M7-96 for the last time, and reached out his hand.

* * *

Danse was picking garbage. He was always picking garbage. Ever since he was small he had picked garbage, he thought. The sky was grey. The rocks were grey. He looked up, and there was Chetan, picking garbage with him. Of course. Chetan had always picked garbage with him. Chetan laughed, and Danse smiled.

* * *

The shop was hard work, but it was better than picking garbage. At least they had a bed. Danse rolled onto his side and kissed Chey, before getting to his feet and stretching. There was a laser rifle in the shop, and he had some thoughts on making it a bit better. 

Chey wasn’t far behind him, his arms slipping around his waist. “I don’t know how you can get up so early every morning,” he complained. 

“I’m not making you get up,” Danse retorted. “You can sleep as long as you like, you lazy thing.”

“You’re so mean to me, Danse.”

“I’m just trying to keep you on the straight and narrow, Chetan. We’re broke half the time and we need to work harder.” He was all set to go into a tirade when he noticed Chetan wasn’t even looking at him. He flinched when Chey’s elbow hit his ribs. 

“Danse. Customers,” Chey snapped, and Danse turned around to see a beautiful girl in a Brotherhood uniform clutching a bundle of yellow fabric and staring at them with wide, hazel eyes.

* * *

Arthur blinked at the uncanny sensation of looking at a younger version of himself through someone else’s eyes, but the vision shifted and he forgot himself again as the field of view followed Chetan and Ellen as they walked through the courtyard at the citadel. Ellen hipchecked Chetan and Chetan scooped her up and spun her around, and Danse caught up with them, the squire across the courtyard forgotten.

* * *

“Ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine!” Chetan chanted. Danse held Ellen up on the last lift without letting her down. She laughed as she swayed back and forth. “I’m flying!” she exclaimed.

Danse held her as long as he could, his arms shaking, until he finally gave up, and she fell, landing half astride him.

“Oh god, so close to my balls,” he grunted. Chey let out a bark of laughter from the desk chair.

* * *

Danse came awake in the night. Ellen was wrapped safely in Chetan’s arms. The bed was small but they all fit. And it was right.

* * *

The boy had almost died, and it was Danse’s fault. 

He looked down at the bandaged face of Arthur Maxson and he wanted to scream in anger. He’d failed. He’d failed to protect him, to keep him safe. And he was starting to suspect he’d failed to protect Chetan as well.

* * *

Danse could tell which of the mutants he had killed had been Brotherhood soldiers. But they weren’t any more. 

Perhaps their alteration was a blessing, of sorts. They forgot themselves, throwing themselves at Danse and his squad like the animals they were.

But not Chey. Not Chey who lay there, a twisted mess, half human, half mutant, his lips swollen on one side. The growl that came from his ruined throat was not like anything Danse had ever heard before. It was pain, and anger, and grief. Danse looked down. Chetan’s boots still gleamed under the dust of this place from when Danse had polished them.

He was delirious, talking nonsense, talking about white walls and garbage, but his one clear brown eye latched onto Danse. His hand found Danse’s. “Keep her safe,” he said.

“I promise.” The eye closed, but he didn’t stop talking.

“Help me, Danse. Make… it stop.”

“I can’t,” Danse said. He wiped away the blood that dripped in his eye. “I can’t.”

“Please, 97.”

Danse pressed one last kiss to the corner of Chey’s mouth, and then pulled the trigger.

* * *

Ellen soothed the nightmares.

* * *

“No, but if you have a little bit of crystal between the two agitators, it more than triples the beam strength,” Danse told Arthur. “A little tweaking can mean the difference between life and death on the field.”

“A bit of glass shouldn’t make that much difference,” Arthur said. 

“It’s crystal, not glass. And it will keep you safe.”

“Perhaps. But I have a whole squad to keep track of. I don’t have a lot of time to fiddle with weapons, Knight.”

Danse instinctively straightened at Arthur’s tone. It had only been a few weeks, and it was hard to get his head around the fact that Paladin Maxson outranked him now. Before he could reply, his eye was caught by Ellen as she strolled into the workshop. Arthur’s head was turned too, Danse noted. Her hair was caught in two braids and she was humming, but when she caught Danse’s eye she stopped and held up the broken weapon she was holding sheepishly.

* * *

Danse’s finger traced down Ellen’s neck to the collar of her shirt, tugging it down slightly. Her skin was chafed and red, and there was a clear bite mark on her throat. His cock hardened.

“And how is Arthur?” Danse asked.

“He’s good.” Ellen’s voice was raspy and she tipped her head to the side.

“Hmm. That’s good. Was I right? About how he feels?” 

“Yeah.”

“Did he kiss you? Here?” He couldn’t resist tasting her, imagining it was someone else, that he was watching. Her pulse beat under her skin and he closed his eyes.

* * *

Danse turned the chair around backwards and sat in it across from Arthur, who raised his eyebrow at him suspiciously. Danse hadn’t seen him in months, and was a little taken aback at his appearance, despite having been warned about it earlier from Ellen. 

“So,” Danse said. “Ellen.”

Arthur’s face was inscrutable.

“She likes you. That’s ok. I’m ok with that. But if you hurt her, I’ll destroy you.”

Blue eyes met brown for a long minute, and then Arthur nodded curtly. 

Danse smiled. “So then. Chess tonight?” Without waiting for a response, Danse stood and strode out of the room.

Once outside, he leaned on the wall for a minute. What the hell had happened to Arthur?

* * *

Danse watched Arthur concentrate on the chessboard, and if he leaned close and closed his eyes, he could almost smell him.

* * *

He was dozing, but the sudden quiet in the room made him open his eyes, only to see Ellen’s head moving in Arthur’s lap. He looked up to see Arthur watching him. He swallowed, wanting badly to get up, to stride over there and take Arthur’s face between his hands and bite at that full mouth, but Arthur closed his eyes as he came, and Danse stayed where he was.

* * *

“Don’t let her come here alone.” 

“What?” Danse was confused.

“Ellen. Don’t let her come here alone anymore. Come with her, or don’t let her come at all.”

Chetan’s words echoed in his head. 

_Keep her safe._

* * *

_Keep her safe,_ he thought, as Ellen fired at the synths around them. _Keep her safe,_ but the voice of the courser stopped him in his tracks.

“M7-97, Initialize factory reset Theta 63 Nimbus”

* * *

M7-97 looked in the mirror, wondering again about the scar on his eyebrow. And the large, puckered gash on his thigh. He frowned, but pushed the idea out of his head. He had more important things to think about. Father’s Mother had finally arrived, and he was to show her around. 

He waited outside her quarters for her to arrive. He saw her clothes first. Dirty wastelander clothing. She would want to change. He looked at her face and took a step backwards involuntarily. 

_Keep her safe,_ a voice in his head told him.

* * *

She was not like the woman in his dreams. She looked like her… so much that the dreams came every night. But in the harsh light of day, the woman he was ordered to guard looked through him like the object he was, her orders and conversation tainted with disdain.

But when they let him rest, when he lingered in that uneasy place between asleep and awake, he saw her differently. He could see her, in a butterfly dress, her face smiling at him. And sometimes there was someone else there, too. His own voice echoed in his head.

_Keep him safe._

* * *

Arthur didn’t know who he was for a minute. He lay there looking at the ceiling, trying to work through the flood of emotions he was feeling. He sat up and his head spun for a moment. 

“All right, there. Just wait a minute.” 

The voice belonged to a doctor. Amari. That was the name. He looked around. He was in the Memory Den.

“Danse,” he said.

“He’s still out. We wanted to give you a minute first. Did you get what you came for?”

“I don’t know yet. I guess it depends on what happens when he wakes up.”

Doctor Amari murmured to herself. “Well, let’s just see then, shall we?” She tapped on her keyboard. The pod opened up, and the person laying there blinked rapidly a few times, before turning his head. Doctor Amari stepped between him and Arthur, blocking his view.

“You’re finally awake,” She said. “Can you tell me your name?”

“I’m M7-97,” he said. Arthur’s heart dropped.

“And I’m also Danse.”

* * *

Doctor Amari undid Danse’s bindings, before she and Deacon left in order to give them a few quiet minutes to recover. Deacon left behind some clothing, with a snarky, “He’ll last about thirty seconds before the Institute finds him in that courser outfit.”

When they were alone, Danse tried to sit up. 

“I think you’ll need a minute,” Arthur said. 

“Thank you,” Danse said. “The last thing I remember is the mission to Mass Fusion.”

“We knocked you out. You took a lot of sedatives. I don’t know how you’ll feel for the next little while.”

“I’m a little lightheaded, but to be honest, I feel great. I’ve never really felt this… whole before.”

Arthur stood up, testing his balance. He seemed to be alright. “Do you need a hand?” he asked.

He helped Danse sit up, and gave him some water. 

“How much did you see?” Danse finally asked.

“Flashes, mostly. It was like waking up from a dream, over and over.”

“I couldn’t have done that without you,” Danse said. “If it had been anyone else, I think I would have fought it.”

“I missed you, Danse. So much. I thought you were dead.” Arthur’s voice shook a little.

“You know I’m not human, right?”

“Danse, you may have been grown within the cold confines of a laboratory, but I felt what you felt. I could feel your sorrow. Your pride in the Brotherhood. Your hope and love when you looked at… at the people you care about. In all the ways that count, Danse, you’re human.”

“Maybe not entirely. I might have a few tricks up my sleeve I didn’t know about before. Could you hand me those clothes? That guy is right. I can’t go out dressed like this.” Danse avoided his eyes.

Arthur handed him the jeans and shirt Deacon had left. Danse got to his feet, a little shaky at first, but he soon found his balance and began removing the courser uniform. 

Arthur knew he should look away, but he was mesmerized as Danse stripped down to his underwear. His back was broad as he remembered, thick with muscle. When Danse bent over to grab the shirt and pull it on over his head, Arthur noticed the deep scar on his thigh and another one on his left bicep.

“Do you know where those scars came from?” he asked.

Danse looked down, fingering his thigh thoughtfully. “I think they’re from when my power armour exploded. The courser put a small charge on it and it ejected me, and then he detonated it. A piece of shrapnel hit my leg. And my arm… it’s different. The Institute is good with prosthetics. I belive they clone them to match.”

“That explains all the blood. They didn’t think you would have survived.”

Danse pulled up his pants and buttoned them. They were a little small, and they clung tightly to his backside. They were also too short, so he bent down to roll them up, then pulled his black boots back on. 

“I guess that’s as good as it gets,” he shrugged. “We should get going.” He turned towards the door. Arthur hurried to follow, catching up with him before he could leave. 

“Danse, wait,” he said, putting his arm out to stop him. “I just… I just wanted to say…”

Danse lifted one eyebrow, the way he’d done a thousand times before. Every moment they’d shared, every glance, every battle, laugh and every quiet moment came flooding into his mind, coloured now with Danse’s memories and feelings. He could feel it through his whole body. And before he could think about it another second, Arthur grabbed him by his shirt and smashed his mouth into Danse’s.

The other man froze for a split second, but then a moment later he was kissing Arthur back, his mouth open, giving Arthur what he’d wanted to take for so long. He felt faint, breathless, but _whole_ , like a piece of himself that had always been missing had finally snapped into place.

When he finally came up for air, Danse looked down at him. “What was that for?” he asked.

Arthur took a breath, then smiled. “It’s just that the one thing I’ve come to realize lately, is that everything you care about can be taken away in an instant. It’s not often you get something - someone back that you lost.”

Danse grinned, then kissed Arthur once more. 

“Speaking of things that are lost. Where’s Ellen? I thought she would be here.”

“I didn’t know how you would react, so I kept her away. Don’t worry. I sent her to the Prydwen. She’s safe.”

Danse stilled. “The Prydwen?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“She’s not safe on the Prydwen. Nobody is. We have to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I do have two chapters written after this one, but somehow I lost my mojo and it's not working for me. There's something wrong with what I'm trying to do after this, and I think I may need to rewrite them. I do have an ending planned for this, and it hasn't changed, but some of the details may have. I don't want to post the next two chapters and then have to edit them, so I am going to make sure they are perfect before I continue posting. Once I get my head back on straight, I think I should be able to wrap this up, as well as put out some updates on some other ongoing projects. 
> 
> But I didn't want to leave you all in the lurch, plus, not only is this the last chapter I am really happy with, I think it is my favourite in this fic as well as one of my favourites in probably most of my fics. I really hope you like it. 
> 
> So I'm sorry about the bit of a cliffhanger, and the upcoming posting hiatus, but hopefully it will result in a better last few chapters and some more content in general from me. Thank you so much for reading thus far, and please go ahead and subscribe if you haven't already, so you can get notified when I post again. Or follow my tumblr, since I will probably keep everyone updated on what I am working on there.

**Author's Note:**

> Please follow my blog [tess-etc.tumblr.com](https://tess-etc.tumblr.com/) You can check the "WOCS" tag for updates and art related to this story.
> 
> Thank you to Ava and Syren for beta reading and input, and general cheerleading.  
> Special thanks to Ava for the wonderful art of Chetan and Danse, which can be found on my blog. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated


End file.
